.... Thy soul shall crave things in the garden. for it is futile - TopicsExpress



          

.... Thy soul shall crave things in the garden. for it is futile to pick a fruit that has been plucked from the earth. and thoughts of today and of times pasts will bring forth the clouds and rain Poor Edgar may have been the most faithful. Asleep now and forever. Poor soul .... Take in the fermented nectar ...... again, again, again. From her garden. Yes Edgar (I know). Feel the nectar race in your veins as we all ride this path through her garden. . . (So beautiful) Is it today? Is it tomorrow? For I do not know her majestic pain ......Is it my day today? Anul 1969
Posted on: Fri, 09 Aug 2013 17:49:37 +0000

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