bared

ART No one knows what Art is.   Art is a feeling... beyond knowledge. - EinStud 2011 .

ART No one knows what Art is.   Art is a feeling... beyond knowledge. - EinStud 2011 .

Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch a pail of water. Farmer Clod sneaked after 'em and grabbed Jack by the collar. 'What the 'ell you doin' up yer wiv my daughter?' 'Just getting some water, sir,' Jack muttered. 'Pull the other one,' he snarled. 'If it's water you be wantin', then it's down there at the stream. Not up this bloody hill!' 'But father,' Jill interjected. 'I swear 'tis true! What other task would cause us to tire our legs so?' Farmer Clod upturned Jack by the ankles and three condoms fell out his pocket. 'What the 'ell d'you call this, then?' he roared. 'Explain that to me, you dirty little toad!' Upright again, Jack

Writing on raindrops is easy, especially when your name is carved on each and every one that bleeds from drowning eyes. That name is threaded roses, and black-rag clouds which choke the sun, and mournful flames, whose caress, slow, gentle, carries you off on high. I've missed your smile. It echoed through the house, and brought warm gratitude to those who felt its kiss. I've missed your thumb, raised with cheeky grin, congratulating proud achievements, and saying more well done than could the words themselves. Above all, I've missed you.