Life Is The Finest Secret. So Long

Find Ecstasy In Life; The Mere Sense Of Living Is Joy Enough.

Write Me Of Hope And Love, And Hearts That Endured.

March Is The Month Of Expectation, The Things We Do Not Know, The Persons Of Prognostication Are Coming Now. We Try To Sham Becoming Firmness, But Pompous Joy Betrays Us, As His First Betrothal Betrays A Boy.

Elysium Is As Far As To The Very Nearest Room, If In That Room A Friend Await Felicity Of Doom.

September's Baccalaureate A Combination Is Of Crickets - Crows - And Retrospects And A Dissembling Breeze That Hints Without Assuming - An Innuendo Sear That Makes The Heart Put Up Its Fun And Turn Philosopher.