As you may have noticed, I did not encounter any musical "jewel" that would compel me to share. But I thought that I should least give you something to "chew". I have selected thus a "fugitive" poem by dear old Keats and my own little work as a photo manipulator.
" On Death
Can death be sleep,when life is but a dream,
And scenes of bliss pass as a phantom by?
The transient pleasures as a vision seem,
And yet we think the greatest pain's to die.
How strange it is that man on earth should roam,
And lead a life of woe,but not forsake
His rugged path;nor dare he view alone
His future doom which is but to awake."
John Keats
And my work:
The stock images that I have used to create this are listed on its deviant place.
That is all from your humble servant.
I wish you a tolerable day,
Myself.
I wish you a tolerable day,
Myself.
