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1d · 42
Prayer
For the love of God.
For Christ's sake. God help us, it's
a God-awful mess
1d · 41
'MUM'
She'd said
she'd buy the flowers herself.
She knew what to get.
She'd found a reliable florist.
And she had the time
to select the perfect arrangement.

That's what the Funeral Director
told us at the Co-op.
And on the day, we all agreed -
the flowers were lovely.

And no one was left
in any doubt -
she'd have loved them.
Credit to Virginia Woolfs novel, Mrs Dalloway.
I took the first line, tweaked and re-purposed it.
This is the shoe where poetry lives
It walks with a tap and the occasional hop and skip
But on Mondays it drags a little on the way to the train station

This is the shoe where poetry lives
Ready to throw a kick but inevitably risking a stubbed toe
Harbouring the memory of a break and the months of limp

This is the shoe where poetry lives
Experimenting with an odd sock, denoting a qwerky outlook
And if you were to examine it's sole you'd find an uneven wear

This is the shoe where poetry lives
Grass stained from ventures along less travelled paths
And carrying scuffs from many climbed boundary walls

This is the shoe where poetry lives
And it sits by the back door ready for the next adventure
Silently jealous of the shoe that was claimed by the dog last night
Try this exercise "This is the [??] where poetry lives..."
4d · 62
Prism
My prism sits in my hand
and if I raise it just enough
I see light in a whole new light.
But I kid myself, if I think
I've seen it all.

My bible sits in my hands
and if I open it often enough...
Stay humble.
4d · 92
Missing
Like a piece of my jigsaw
Like a block from my jenga
Like a bridge for my song
Like a love forgone

You are missing from me
I am incomplete
From the French "Tu me manques."  Not: 'I'm missing you'. But: 'You are missing from me.'
4d · 47
Light
Imagine no shadows, no night.
All light
everywhere.
No need for shade.
For we are all basking
in one all enveloping
Light.

And we shall see his face.
A pause on Revelations 22 vv 4 and 5.  Blows my mind.
6d · 187
Vintage
Swig the morning dew
Join song amongst the blackbirds
This is vintage spring
7d · 92
Korean Spring
Back when Tigers smoked and Cranes
played fiddle late in the night,
back when men left the forests
for fear of the Moon Bears’ songs,
back when women were revered
for their surging red moon dance,
I remember less warfare,
more reason to feast and sing,
I recall my beginning
as father took mother’s hand
and bathed her in the river
in the late Korean Spring.
“Back when tigers used to smoke” is apparently a Korean idiom used as an equivalent to “once upon a time” or “a long time ago”.
7d · 188
Lift that chin
Lift that chin, Rosa.
Lift those eyes up high.
Say to the sun, you're welcome.
Lift your face to the sky.

Lift that chin, Rosa.
Spread your arms out wide.
Tell the wind that you're ready.
And just see if you don't fly!
I have a granddaughter, Rosa.  I have a photo of her lifting her chin, with a beautiful smile.  She's a smart cookie.  She'll go far.
May 5 · 59
Minded
Steve Page May 5
Like-minded
Christ-minded
Like-Christ-minded
(Not small-minded)
A meditation on Philippians 2 and I Corinthians 2.  There's wisdom there.
May 3 · 59
Lowry's Dragons.
Steve Page May 3
We thought we'd tamed the dragons.

But they were simply waiting,
Watching us methodically
Create an environment
More suited to their needs.

Heated, unpredictable, and
Increasingly hostile.

We never tamed the dragons.
We became them.
Prompted by a painting, River Scene, 1935, by L S Lowry, now hanging in the Laing Art Gallery in Newcastle.
May 3 · 166
The Bathing Pool
Steve Page May 3
Cool aqua marine
Stillness sinking into blue
I wait for the sun

My fears sink down deep
The pool offers little warmth
I wait in the sun

Questions float in time
Waters answer in silence
I wait with the sun
After a painting of the same name, by Harold Knight, 1916. Now hanging at the Laing Art Gallery, Newcastle.
May 3 · 82
Comfort Zone
Steve Page May 3
If you don't know where the trail will go
Why be tempted to find out
Stick to what you know you know
Don't listen to your doubts

We don't know how the debate will end
So why start the discussion
Stick to trusted monologues
Don't risk their deconstruction

You're safe with the true tried and tested
With the solace of the known
So why be so curious
Stay here in our comfort zone.
Don't risk change
May 1 · 104
Spring Haiku
Steve Page May 1
Banners of blossom
Hardy perennials
One big metaphor
Words that featured when praying with friends this morning
Apr 30 · 122
Komorebi
Steve Page Apr 30
Shadows don’t get deeper
when they overlap.
They don't get darker
under a brighter sun.

Dragonflies out in the sun
They know what I mean

We share the same
filtered sun.
We share the same
moving shadows.

And we are all the stronger for the sharing.
All credit to 'Perfect Days'.  A Wim Wenders film. (With a little Nina Simone thrown in.)
Komorebi: the shimmering light and shadow filtered through moving leaves. It only exists once, at that moment.
Apr 30 · 111
Park Bench
Steve Page Apr 30
Lord of life,
of green and colour,
of breeze and light.
Lord of bluebell and butterfly,
of birdsong and birds' flight.

Lord of space to think,
of time to rest.
Lord of movement,
of stillness.

I sit here and I confess
complete adoration,
my sunshine celebration
of this, your full spectrum,
this rainbow-wide gifted creation.

I sit and give thanks
for this sustained life,
of greens and blues in yellow light,
of fresh composed songscape,
of this colour full to the brim life,
this God given land and sky-scape.

I thank you, Lord, for this gateway,
this fresh every morning,
gifted new day.
loving this Spring weather
Apr 30 · 62
First Things First
Steve Page Apr 30
I got places I need to go

I got people I need to see

I got plans to change the world

but first I need to ***
I was reminded of this old poem - still applies.
Apr 27 · 207
Three trees remaining
Steve Page Apr 27
Golden sunlight drips
Kintsugi salve on the hills
Three trees remaining

Sunlight endows warmth
Golden strata breathe promise
Three trees remaining

The hills pray for aid
The sun renders grains of gold
Three trees remaining

And by remaining
Three trees swell with seeds of hope
Gold granulation
After 'Three trees remaining', a painting by Susie Heyes. @susieheyesart
Apr 25 · 108
Huge and Messy
Steve Page Apr 25
Oh, that we'd all have
huge and messy hearts,
that we'd expel
the shrivelled, the trimmed
as no longer fit for purpose.
Apr 24 · 142
Better
Steve Page Apr 24
I just know I'm weak.
And now I know that
and that it's not that unusual,
I now know it better.
Like when you get to know
someone in your life better.
Like your dad - adult to adult
and you find words
that better describe him
and in describing,
you find understanding.
So it's like that.
And now that I know it better
(the weak bit),
I find that I can bear it
better
just like my dad before me.
First line from a podcast I was listening to. The rest came much too easily.
Apr 24 · 125
By this
Steve Page Apr 24
And by this they will know you are my disciples
That you love one another.
By this, they will know you are my children
That you love me,
heart, soul, mind, and strength.
By this, they will know you are my body
That you are bruised, hurting and *****
because you have been out on the streets,
loving every neighbour as yourself.
Adapting words from the gospels and from Pope Francis in Evangelii Gaudium (or "The Joy of the Gospel").  The document was effectively a mission statement for “a Church which is bruised, hurting and ***** because it has been out on the streets”.
Apr 22 · 119
My home is so unmoved
Steve Page Apr 22
My third home is so unmoved.  
It stays as recalled
smelling of the comfort of the first and last
as if to harbour memories regardless
of age, refusing to release its hold,
it stands so full of heart,
with echoes of dinner

with steam lifting from hefts
of potatoes and withered veg,
an adamant replay of checkered tablecloths
and brown orange tableware,
long cracked and stacked. You see how it was.
Close your eyes and hear the scrapes
of plates, the kettle.  
And that veined mug.
After ‘A home is so sad’ by Philip Larkin (The Whitsun Weddings)
Apr 21 · 79
New You
Steve Page Apr 21
Perch up here
so we can judge you,
analyse and season you
so to help you redefine you.

Let us make-up for the blemished you,
for the degrees of the damaged you
and so apply a brand-new
foundational layer to you.

We can enhance you
with a new shade of you,
we can sponge, brush and fill-in you,
conceal the less-than-perfect you.  

We can blush you,
highlight and contour you,
fade you and blend you
right into the crowd
of all our just-like-you’s.

We can make-up for the real you
and ensure no one ever gets a clue
as to what is the essence of the beauty
of the true you.

Just perch here
and let us re-make you.
Don't loose the true you.
Apr 20 · 119
I come from
Steve Page Apr 20
I come from inner-city, stand-up strong tea, delivered early with grumpy care, and a ‘don't think about sleeping in’ fading down the stair. I come from cornflakes with full cream benefits and fuller if you get down at full tilt, before Dad manages to shake the delivered milk.

I come from warming up the telly in time for Crackerjack and Crossroads and the nearest of us having to get up for the lack of a remote control. I come from snooker in black and white and the thrill of home-grown wrestlers' faux fights. I come from aerial adjustments, the unity of the family three-piece, paying homage to the three-channel Buddha TV.

I come from tempers and broken locks, with after-work threats to knock your block off. I come from seeped in feelings of coming up short at each and every blue and white sport. I come from hereditary parenting, watery eyes, and the upholstered cushion of mum’s white lies. I come from long family road trips with back seats sun-baked, and car sickness triggered by wafts of St Bruno Flake.

I come from first gen suburbanites, budget tensions and dad's got three jobs cos things got tight. I come from the garden turned vegetable patch with biting rhubarb, rubber runner beans and the Sunday stench of stewed-to-death cabbage. I come from a street in open plan, holding homes and gardens in common, one big for-good-or-ill clan.

And if I could, I’d plan a street-long celebration: Party Sevens and Tizer and shades of beige food for every occasion. I’d put on the gramophone with the Joe Loss Band’s All Time Party Hits, and no room to spare, with the kettle on repeat and biscuits bits in mum's faded Tupperware.

And over mis-matched tea mugs, I’d tell them I’m okay, I’ve moved across this city to find my own way.  I’d assure them that blood is still the thicker, but please do me a favour and get over me and mine living north of the river.
From an exercise suggested by The Poetry lounge, London.
Apr 19 · 97
Heard Wisdom
Steve Page Apr 19
Listen -

no matter how impregnable
how tall the border wall
how faint their call
no matter how great the chasm
between you and them
between your point of view
between your world view
and where they have taken their pew

- Listen

don't write them off as blinkered
as closed minded, as none-so-blind
don't assume you're the more
twenty-twenty vision kind

- Listen

don't shame them or be all too ready to belittle them
don't be dismissive of them with no respect for them
and for what has led them and theirs
to their honestly held position

- Listen

assume their good faith and in a space that's safe
assume a position of good natured
mutual consideration and seek mutual revelation
of God-given wisdom

-Listen

And as you clear that common ground
you are bound to build a safer compound
a creator-shared hallowed ground
where the heard are found
while bound for wisdom –

together.
Proverbs 18:13
To answer before listening—
that is folly and shame.
Apr 18 · 105
The Morning Truth
Steve Page Apr 18
The truth and power of our faith hangs on the cross,
on the height of sacrifice,
on the lengths and depths Christ was willing to go
from holy conception to physical resurrection
from Passover supper to Emmaus meal,
to fish on the beach, to the promise of a feast
at his Father's family table.

The truth on which we stand hangs on God made man
and on us made new, all due to our LORD Jesus Christ,
God's most loved Son, our loving Saviour,
our once and for all time holy, acceptable sacrifice.

The truth and power of our faith
hangs on His cross
but now stands on a rolled away stone,
revealing the empty space
that left Roman minds blown.

The truth is, the power of God is an early riser
and loves a walk in a garden
whether at the dawn of time
or before dawn on an Easter Sunday morn-ing.

The truth is, Jesus didn't waste time,
but got up early to be Mary’s before dawn guide
who promptly anointed his feet in tears one more time
(but he didn’t seem to mind)

and she spread the news
that the Truth was up and walking
way before the doubts and lies got talking.

She told them
the truth is, there's no need to rage against the coming of the night
for Jesus entered death’s domain with his pure and living light.
And before sunrise, he rose in plain sight.

The truth is,
Jesus is the Way and the Truth and New Life
and He walks with you in the early-morning Easter Light.

So rise, let your song and your life
glorify the living Christ
and share his creation-wide invite.

And tell them this truth:
Jesus is Alive.

And the people said in one voice, Amen.
Easter 2025 - worth celebrating
Apr 11 · 77
Growing Back
Steve Page Apr 11
Isn't it unfair? I mean,
why does your heart grow back bigger?
I mean, it grows - why? Experience?
Is it a version of 'what doesn't **** you,' etc.
Is it cos it gets stretched to breaking point?
Or maybe it's more like how water
expands when frozen
(that makes no sense, ignore that last bit.)
But your heart does seem to grow
back after a while, and it feels bigger.
Or maybe it just feels emptier
because it got used to being so full.
Anyhow, I'm left with this bloated heart.
So, I'll keep writing,
hoping to keep the excess in check.  
Or at least it'll give it a workout.
Till it has something better to do.
Birthed from a line in a movie 'Must Love Dogs.'
Apr 10 · 70
Libr-ation
Steve Page Apr 10
Reading as resistance
Not reading as distraction

A prologue of Reflection
An intro in Contemplation

Then commence with Participation
Continue in Expedition
Subdue with Rebellion
Prevail in Revolution

And savour the Liberation
Of a book well read.
Reading not escaping.
Apr 10 · 81
Train Talk
Steve Page Apr 10
You think I won't?
You see I will.
You better belie' me
I ain't even lyin'
This is real, guy.
This is what I meanne.
'nuff of this sh#t.
'full of sh#t...
This is change -
You jus see.
Elizabeth Line, London, 5pm.  A crowded platform.  A heated conversation.
Steve Page Apr 9
Not too old to dance
Not too big to rumba
Never passing up a chance
To feel a little younger

Still learning some new steps
Hearing brand new beats
Sensing curious rhythms
Finding both my feet

Using all my muscles
Controlling my meander
With a God given freedom
To release the inner dancer

Old friends say they see
The dancer that they knew
They recognise the steps
Each one tried and true

So, whilst I’m not as spry
And maybe I’m less graceful
You won’t stop me dancing
Just not on any tables
A rewrite with a different tone.
Apr 9 · 160
The Muted Cuckoo
Steve Page Apr 9
The muted cuckoo goes through the hourly motions, miming dutiful repetitions
which in time is lip-read til we appreciate what's long-gone unsaid.

Another hour has sped by, pregnant with unrealised promise.
Few things sadder in the clock world as a silent cuckoo.
Apr 9 · 67
Creator
Steve Page Apr 9
Maker
Originator
Innovator
Landscaper
Sculptor
Painter
Writer
Director
(Mould breaker)
Care-Taker
Sustainer
Restorer
Reinventor
Renovator
Collaborator
Benefactor.

Maker of all.
He didn't just leave us be.
Steve Page Apr 5
"Bob, track some mud on the carpet"
Words from Johnny Cash to Bob Dylan, a nudge to take risks and leave a mark.
“You are the light of the world…let your light shine before others.”  Matthew 5.14. Words from someone who knew how to leave a mark. We can do the same.

I
Have you left some mud on the carpet?
When did you last leave a stain?
Do your words make an impression?
Will you risk sounding insane?
How will you best be remembered?
How soft are you tempted to tread?
How long will your footsteps echo,
in the years after you’re dead?
Why do you think you were here?
Why do you have breath within you?
Why do you have all these questions,
when there're answers that've always been true?

II
Created to be the creators.
Gifted to speak others' minds.
Your art is a voice unspoken.
A light to open their eyes.
So next time you walk in a room,
look for the ones in the crowd.
Those who show recognition
of the things you don’t dare say out loud.
These are your tribe and your family.
These are the ones you can trust.
Together you might find a way
to help new life form from the mud.
Prompted by that quote from Jonny Cash.
Apr 4 · 112
Garlic Bread
Steve Page Apr 4
If there is a God, he whispered 'garlic bread' to Peter Kay
and 'Yellow' into the ear of a younger Coldplay.  
He gave Picasso a brand new angle
and told Isosceles the deep secrets of the triangle.  
He opened the eyes of a struggling Van Gogh
and calmed Will Tell Jnr. in the face of his father's levelled bow.
God's whisper and touch are as present now as ever,
just heed the prompts of our ever-present creator.
With thanks to Russell Howard for that first Peter Kay thought.
Apr 4 · 152
Moto Grantham North
Steve Page Apr 4
I sit in my Edward Hopper moment, my half started keepacup of green tea cooling,  staring at the chess board floor while my mind slows, moving down the gears after A1-driven shenanigans and I mindfully let the beat of Magic Radio fade back into the 70s while some seldom used lobe recalls a blue wide-wheeled mini van (replete with an A-Team overthetop stripe) on other journeys North.

I close my eyes and focus on the duties and joys of single granddad-hood and try to ignore the give in the one-size-barely-fits-all plastic seating beneath my oversized frame. My eyes refocus and I'm struck by a three-gen family arguing over Burger Kings, and I hate their voices forcing me back to 1984,  RAF Scampton, forcing down a much-too-early, much-too-bleak breakfast ahead of a slow day taking stick from families of maddened miners.

I close my eyes again to breathe my regrets back into place, and I sup and look ahead.
After Wendy Cope's 'At Stratford Services'.
Apr 3 · 275
Beauty Beneath.
Steve Page Apr 3
Beauty lies beneath.
Wait for it to emerge.
New shoots, rich earth.

Part the foliage.
Give them more light.
A chance to fight.

Simply crouch.
Dip your head.
See beneath.

Beauty lies beneath
the bleak.
Worth the effort.
Mar 31 · 72
Stomach
Steve Page Mar 31
I recognise her hurled hurt
- pain
- frustration
- weariness
- can't wait to get out of this
in each unspoken sigh
each practiced cry
each queued curt response
that lay swallowed
and composed in the pit
of a fully evacuated stomach
an old draft, regurgitated
Mar 31 · 67
inner page
Steve Page Mar 31
frayed but full to four edges
marginalised annotations leaving nothing unsaid
over the bleeding watermark shouting its insistence:

nothing is ever finished only paused pending further
inspiration from yet unheard whispers from beyond
the perimeters of an ensnared inner page of rage
an old draft, tweaked and let loose
Mar 30 · 204
Dormant Questions
Steve Page Mar 30
Brave to ask.

   Wise to listen.

      Inspired to act.

         Transformation.
I came across the concept of 'dormant questions' - at least I think that was the term used.  Questions someone may be aware of that they should ask, but they do not have the courage or the ability to articulate.
Questions that have the potential for life changing answers.  
They say admiting you have a problem is the first step.
Maybe admitting that you have a Question can work in the same way.
So take a moment. Is there a shelved question that has been gathering dust? See if you're ready to lift it down and dust it off.
I'll be doing the same.
Mar 30 · 132
What If?
Steve Page Mar 30
Sometimes,
and sometimes, just as I try
to doze on a sofa,
when I have nothing demanding to do
and I have time when I can
while away some time alone -

Sometimes like that,
I find my mind wandering,
I find myself wondering

"What if?"

I examine the sliding doors
The life choices
The milestones
that mark past crossroads.

And I story-tell, I dream-walk
I wander down roads not travelled.

And from that sofa
I wonder if I might now just about see
the next significant junction
on my horizon.

And in that wonder moment,
I promise the Makers of my turnings
that, this time, I'll be more adventurous
I'll trust Them more.
I'll take the road that carries
a little more risk, a little less certainty.

I pledge to not roadmap my journey,
at least not quite as much
as I typically do.
And I will entrust the future
into the more capable hands of those
who have no need for What ifs.  

I can trust the Makers, for
they know what lies ahead.
They have been there
and they can each see way more
than I can
from my sofa.
Mar 28 · 140
Uneasy state of grace
Steve Page Mar 28
I can't enjoy unearned grace.
Where's the satisfaction in that?
Unfounded mercy sits uneasy
with self-respect,
(or with self-contempt come to that).

I can't enjoy what I don't deserve.
But it's not the problem you believe;
you see, I am fully self-assured
of what I've earned
And it's more than you'd conceive.

So, you can gift your lavish grace,
on those in acknowledged penury,
on those who are sufficiently naive
to foolishly believe
that they are in need of mercy.

But that's not me.
[Don't believe a word of it.]
Mar 28 · 130
Proverbs
Steve Page Mar 28
Of the reading of maps
and the keeping of diaries
there is no end,
but the LORD directs those who pause at dawn.

It seems wise to number,
to measure appears right to the mortal mind.
What is time,
but our need to gauge eternity?

We search without regard.  
We take the answer
before we finish the question.
But Wisdom rewards those who return to her.

We watch when we should sleep.  
We linger when we should walk.  
Much is gained by those who mute temptation.

A true friend is found in joined silence.  
Likes do little to feed the soul.
Pondering 21st Century living.
Mar 25 · 89
Turn the Page
Steve Page Mar 25
Turn the page clockwise,
a full one-eighty degrees. 
 
Any further and you’ll lose perspective.  
Any less and you’ll slip back.  

That’s not irretrievable,
and you’ll probably
have an opportunity to re-cover.
You might re-live and re-peat,
but if you make it a habit,
you’ll get stuck in a loop
never breaking out of the prologue.

Stick to the clockwise-one-eighty approach
and you’ll myth like a Makar.
You’ll story, fable and yarn.
You’ll chronicle and tale.
You’ll saga.  

That is what we call a true page turner.
[Not sure what that's all about - but we'll see where it takes us.]
Mar 24 · 113
London School Run
Steve Page Mar 24
When is a scooter
not a scooter?
When you don't scoot,
and I'm the scooter-
pusher.
I wonder what we're teaching them?
Mar 23 · 68
Hi Viz
Steve Page Mar 23
Like layering Hi Viz
over my Camo Print
I embrace my tendency
to self contradict -
Deal with it.
Mar 23 · 117
Eating healthy
Steve Page Mar 23
There's nothing magical about being intentional.
It's about the beneficial, not just the permissible.
Don't be mindful of the infinitesimal
But watch the frequency of every mouthful
Watch the size of your morning bowlful
And what you spread on a wholemeal bagel.

That way you'll find you'll be more healthful.

Although I should be a little more truthful –
I can get all emotional
And potentially inspirational
About my preferable, honey-based
Sticky sauce that’s truly capital (BBQ).
[Have I said I’m on a diet?]
Mar 23 · 424
Taking a Selfie
Steve Page Mar 23
When is a selfie not a great selfie?
When I’m not recognised.
When proportions are all out of balance.
When I look dead round the eyes.

When is a selfie not a real selfie?
When I look more like my father.
When family traits take a front seat.
When my lost hair is a disaster.

When is a selfie not a true selfie?
When my features just aren’t right.
When my chins are lost in shadow.
When I look like I just lost a fight.

When is a selfie a much better selfie?
Only when I’m unprepared.
When I can’t worry about how it turns out
When I’m fully caught unawares.

I have a great selfie, a much better selfie,
One that was made by my daughter.
You see a great selfie is made a great selfie
When family can make it with laughter.
true
Steve Page Mar 15
We frolic and laugh, for the dragon sleeps.

  We glory in the pleasure of this short summer,
  the cool of the brook and the still warming sun,
  for the dragon does still sleep.

  We will not give good attention to the dark,
  though it sits not so far away. We play at peace,
  for the dragon does still sleep.

  We shall not quieten, for he more than slumbers,
  his sleep is the sleep of the near dead,
  though he may yet rise and torment us once more.

  We will not wait on that future fear.
  We will rather frolic in the warmth of sun and laughter,
  for the Tamar dragon does still sleep.

And we know a Champion
who is a slayer of all our dragons.
After ‘Crossing The Brook’, by JMW Turner.
(With an eye to that dark cavern in the lower right corner.)
Mar 13 · 107
On Parting
Steve Page Mar 13
I strive for each parting to be well made.
Not in silence, nor in haste,
but in all honesty and good humour.
For each parting may well be a conclusion
or perhaps a foundation
if only we knew the truth of it.

So let us not step away without observing
and, be it only briefly, examining
what we have had in this, our good company.

Let us not turn our eyes without first
seeking the light of this truth
- that we have sown to good effect,
that our God has purposed
something of Heaven here.  
And it will only be in the reaping erelong
that Heaven's Kingdom will be established
It is only then her King is enthroned
in the hearts of his creation in concert.

My brother, my sister,
- let us see this end, this parting,
as one well made in the sight of our Maker,
the good Maker of each joining
of every parting.

Indeed let us know this day
as a parting that our Maker
has truly well made
and in His careful making
has blessed it with his countenance.

And so, let us part in his rejoicing.
After Shakespeare's Julius Caesar.
"If a man were to know the end of this day's business ere it come; But it suffice us that the day will end, and then the end be known. If we meet again, well then we'll smile, and if not then this parting was well made."
Mar 11 · 91
Karma
Steve Page Mar 11
What goes around
will come around.
Usually,
to bite you.
Invariably
in the ****
and always
overdue.
A misheard conversation.
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