A mere two years ago over seriously mulled Christmas wine and generous cups of Evelyn's Killer Eggnog, I threatened to compile my poetry into a retrospective with witty, superiorly intelligent prose and commentary. As with most wanna-be writers, the planets have colluded in preventing me from getting on with this epic. However, just this day, another chapter took form in my "book closet" and I give all the credit to my inadvertently clever Mum.
This chapter is all yours, Mom. I'll let y fans know when the momentous occassion arrives... you will all be instructed to proceed to your nearest Amazon (funny, that once was a nickname) or Borders to procure the most delicious tome of our times.
skip to main |
skip to sidebar
No comments:
Post a Comment