They hummed.
And sang,
but when they drooled
I raised my hand
...
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You died immersed in a sea of love, speaker. That's more than a lot of us others can hope for. Herbs, you might choose to give it up, throw it away, or forget about it, but you'll never ever literally lose your gift for writing. Love, Gina.
What an image this gave me Herbert! There's such a powerful feeling of love in this poem.....without the sappy stuff! Great way for me to end my morning session. I'm off to the volleyball tournament! Take care Herbert! You know we all love you! Sincerely, Mary
Strange flowers have been known to grow out of a dungheap, and your flowers are blooming, Old Man. I think that your strength of writing will only improve, not go away!