I felt her breath, tender/
As she caressed my soul/
She fought not to render/
Hers, as my heart she stole
Friday, July 18, 2008
Sense and Sensibility
The guy who teaches us Creative Writing wears checkered tweed pants in shades of brown, all the time. They go with his long blond tresses, I'll give you that much. Creative license, eh?
1 comment:
Anonymous
said...
Great article! We will be linking to this particularly great article on our website. Keep up the good writing.
If music be the food of love, play on, Give me excess of it; that surfeiting, The appetite may sicken, and so die. - Twelfth Night, William Shakespeare
1 comment:
Great article! We will be linking to this particularly
great article on our website. Keep up the good writing.
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