“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Sap from heart-wood drips-
Honey, no one would call It.
Can you Smell the sun?
Painting by George Inness (1825-1894), 'The Mill Stream, Montclair, New Jersey' c. 1888 in Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.
Riding horses is just nuts and bolts, you know if the rider is nuts, the horse bolts. it's true. He knew I loved horses from the start....
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