small drifts in dark hues of gray under dim fog of dust and walloping din to remind us   scenic arrays with white peaks and blue Sound torpid, lethargic, bunumbed, and repose sitting under the burden, await   sprouting out of a dimple in its bubblesome scape three sober spires adorn a trepid prosaic beside such renown the only resplendent One to fix our gazes upon   and there standing bold admidst the splendorious scene Her guard of invariable knights who stand and face their Queen   scattered on valley, on slope, and plateau the earliest motions of new gathered strength equanimity rises, and then   we breathe the air that now blows through the crannies of our stagnant caves at long last we can emerge   though it dampened our goings back and forth and to the sea the budded Blossom dries atop, suppressed benignity!   the sweetest chirp on wing and sea invigorates mirth, merriment, and glee blitheness, laughter, wit, and hope   bright jocularity lit on me, lit on me, lit on me!   by Blake Edwards, February 2006

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