I had a dream, a strange and scaringly exotic dream.
On granite steps I sat, awaiting precious mail,
I'd worked on it, that new and crazy scheme,
It could, if God was game, perhaps, prevail.
...
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Is God not playing ball? Shame on Her. H this is musically/poetically perfect... kind of enchanting. 'To sell you love and have it look like modern art'... that's a line to remember. t x
God hasn't been asked as yet, Tara. H