Hallowed By Time.

Loved it! It has that distant wary beauty that you experience with everything in life!

Vintage Sapience

Every once in a while
I pop in to see
The lone hut with the withering bent oak
The house with the cracking ceiling
The roadside solitary sedan that was
Once an expensive car-on-four-working-wheels.

The broken bench in a park,
The leaf from a low, bent branch.
The dead of a pigeon’s nest.
The dying of the humans rest.

The buried old in my home,
The ragged rolled in your dome,
The distressed dump at my house,
The carefully clumped in your shroud.

Once in a while I try to see,
Twice of these days, I long to see.
The love in the eyes of the old.
The longing for every one of their own.

The sweat in each brick of the crumbling house,
The bee hive along the sides of the hut.
The birds making nest in the ye old oak.
The dog making home in the vintage baroque.

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Corelli’s Mandolin

By Louis de Bernières

“When you fall in love, it is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake, and then it subsides. And when it subsides, you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots are to become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the desire to mate every second of the day. It is not lying awake at night imagining that he is kissing every part of your body. No … don’t blush. I am telling you some truths. For that is just being in love; which any of us can convince ourselves we are. Love itself is what is left over, when being in love has burned away. Doesn’t sound very exciting, does it? But it is!”