http://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/emmasdill_eh/Alongside our routes and roundabout ways we meander and sometimes philander but rare is the one who can not say these verses are anything less than fodder fodder for spirit and soul and wit and wanton wild wordplay sometimes fickle, sometimes fit; in song that won't wage less than almighty war on the villainous gluttons for greed and for gore; those vile ones whose foreplay on web sites and film creates quite a stir as it crosses the chasm to the cliffs of regret and the lakes of remorse where the charms of God's Spirit run like a course. Taste of this fine wine it's stored here for you; if the vintage is hearty, then the future is true.hourly12000-01-01T12:00+00:00http://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/emmasdill_eh/336404drives us: on impulse we push on for more, seek to uncover what keeps us apart, yearn to discover what’s at our heart’s core, adore stars above us, admire their art, bestow upon them gifts rich in fancy, emulate them, adorn ourselves like them, watch them again, and again; take chancy risks to...http://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/emmasdill_eh/334252Hidden in a cave, underwater, lost for years, is a treasure in a trunk sunk at sea. On a parchment golden gilded and sealed with royal decree are writ the secrets of a kingdom fraught with fears. It seems that certain strangers landing by the castle walls intruded in upon a solemn feast. They...http://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/emmasdill_eh/334132(for Ariala, with sincere affection) Somewhere in media res the end began with an ebony undertow, as the black tusk of fear crept shadowy night over silken white end-tables of time’s nude nostalgic daydream humanity reclined sunk in satin on serene leather cushions of amiable illusion woven from...http://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/emmasdill_eh/334073Calm me, placate me, erase my bad dreams; tonight of all nights as I stare at the sky; awake way past midnight my mind still teems with visions of violence; force me to cry; force me to die: I yearn for the graveyard, the tomb, cold comfort must give to the dead; yet I see glimpses too gruesome...http://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/emmasdill_eh/333810Enticing, inviting, sweet as a pear, alluring, ensconcing, like wine on tongues, touching through lips locked so firmly to share an embrace: of such are soft supple thongs that bind us now each to each; thighs, too, joined in a moist firm grip and groove, undulate proving love, given and taken:...http://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/emmasdill_eh/333451Life is short and then you die: A cliché. That’s why kids get high. Such a sad display. Consider a poignant response to this: You were born to live forever. Don’t miss out—don’t pass it by—don’t waste it away by getting high. Too many to my dismay live their whole lives by the motto of KISS: Rock...http://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/emmasdill_eh/333428Gothic beyond all limits of dark grace, intense as a Titian on stark display is the look of horror on the john’s face. Full is the moon, high above clouds of gray. Soon he is bit by the she-wolf whose prey upon humans sates her crude appetite. The john is hellbent to live, come what may; He...http://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/emmasdill_eh/332977Trite as truth, wrong as right Good as evil, bright as night: Nothing real is what seems Fiction, life: stuff of dreams Melville penned a whale in prose. Jesus wept, and died, and rose. Love endures; love will last: A present from the past. Somber King, callous dawn Feeling more than put upon:...http://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/emmasdill_eh/331674Hale as gods, our troops prepare to meet with Scottish foes. The whetted appetite excites, and so the prelude party goes. Music sweeps us vista-like into a moonlit trance. Celtic mystery invites, and to the pipes we dance. Through the forests great and green come the fearsome Scots as the wind...http://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/emmasdill_eh/330524die verse if i cat ion I cut you. You bleed love. Among your groans and sighs I sense great need fulfilled. I have sung of your love, and I have fit like a suture into your wound, and followed you home to prove I was more than merely a passing fancy. * * * I cut you. You bleed love. I on eyes:...