The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling.
Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven,
And as imagination bodies forth
The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen
Turns them to shapes, and gives airy nothing
A local habitation and a name.

-W.Shakespeare

Tuesday, 27 May 2014

Naturally

There’s something about this greenery,
this ever-changing scenery,
that caught me sitting serenely,
then thinking about the Sun’s energy,
though feeling apart completely.
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