<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8" standalone="yes"?><rdf:RDF xmlns="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/" xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/" xmlns:sy="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/syndication/" xmlns:rdf="http://www.w3.org/1999/02/22-rdf-syntax-ns#"><channel rdf:about="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/BlogRss.aspx/CrossRhoads"><title>Letting go..? - Blogit</title><link>https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/CrossRhoads/</link><description /><sy:updatePeriod>hourly</sy:updatePeriod><sy:updateFrequency>1</sy:updateFrequency><sy:updateBase>2000-01-01T12:00+00:00</sy:updateBase><items><rdf:Seq><rdf:li resource="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/CrossRhoads/535945" /><rdf:li resource="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/CrossRhoads/535462" /><rdf:li resource="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/CrossRhoads/534346" /><rdf:li resource="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/CrossRhoads/534152" /><rdf:li resource="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/CrossRhoads/533900" /><rdf:li resource="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/CrossRhoads/533622" /><rdf:li resource="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/CrossRhoads/533382" /><rdf:li resource="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/CrossRhoads/533121" /><rdf:li resource="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/CrossRhoads/532886" /><rdf:li resource="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/CrossRhoads/532598" /></rdf:Seq></items></channel><item rdf:about="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/CrossRhoads/535945"><title>Erstwhile etiquette</title><link>https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/CrossRhoads/535945</link><description>As St Christopher stood waiting on her doorstep and Montezuma haunted the alabaster halls Guadalupe wandered her garden drawing moustaches on the walls</description></item><item rdf:about="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/CrossRhoads/535462"><title>Smokin Red Hot</title><link>https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/CrossRhoads/535462</link><description>Oh, I've got the blackest blues I've just heard the news My green eyed, red top, is back in town They say you're hangin round McCools, till the quarter is after three A smoke in one hand, in the other a daiquiri Velvet of voice, racy hips buxom bosom, ruby lips and long tan legs that go on...</description></item><item rdf:about="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/CrossRhoads/534346"><title>So I've just returned from</title><link>https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/CrossRhoads/534346</link><description>the deep dark jungles of the Sahara Where I went to document the fading art of Piano Juggling " Piano Jugglers of the Rain Forest " A tribute to a nomadic tribe of incredible deftness who were once famed near and far for their amazing feats of Piano Juggling Myboottoo the chief of the tribe...</description></item><item rdf:about="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/CrossRhoads/534152"><title>Roseanna Banana</title><link>https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/CrossRhoads/534152</link><description>Somedays I jus goes whichever way the wind blows Oh I knows we're suppose to plot each and every step carefully to reach nirvana but I jus feel like smokin this havana dreamin of Rhiana and idling some hours away in the sunshine in my hammock and rockabye sweet baby Cross</description></item><item rdf:about="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/CrossRhoads/533900"><title>Senorita Margarita</title><link>https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/CrossRhoads/533900</link><description>I saw the most beautiful girl in the world just the other day She was wandering happily through a field of poems Her hair was streaked with silver She had little laugh lines round her eyes the cutest dimples in her cheeks and I fell hopelessly head over heels in love</description></item><item rdf:about="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/CrossRhoads/533622"><title>Needle nardle nose</title><link>https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/CrossRhoads/533622</link><description>Fairy Bright, the little sprite perches casually on the end of my nose Clipping her toenails, letting the chips fall where they may I really don't mind nor feel distressed Oh no, I feel so wonderfully blessed To have such a delightfully impertinent little creature feel so completely comfortable...</description></item><item rdf:about="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/CrossRhoads/533382"><title>Please don't let me be</title><link>https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/CrossRhoads/533382</link><description>Miss Understewed My love is a hippopotamus with a ginormous bottomus She wags her finger thus and quotes Sir Polygamous saying " Let us retire to my quarters where we shall dine on watermelon wine pizza stew and wallpaper glue " She plays me dirges on her didgeridoo while I wax eloquently on...</description></item><item rdf:about="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/CrossRhoads/533121"><title>Ying tong iddle i poe</title><link>https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/CrossRhoads/533121</link><description>" There are no short cuts to the prime cut, amigo " latina, Lopez of Las Cruces says " No whys in exes and ohs No gibbons in a waning gibbous moon " It's waning it's pouring the old man is imploring of minstrel, muse and Mother Goose of Father Times rare lapis lazuli wine of springtime cherries...</description></item><item rdf:about="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/CrossRhoads/532886"><title>To Sam, Elyse, Troosha, SoulSpeaker</title><link>https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/CrossRhoads/532886</link><description>and probably more that I've yet to discover All right ladies You're not making my labor of love an easy one Just when I think that you've written the most perfect poem I'll ever read you go and post another even more beautiful than the last From which of the many wells will I have to draw from to...</description></item><item rdf:about="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/CrossRhoads/532598"><title>I'll never forget</title><link>https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/CrossRhoads/532598</link><description>old " what's his name " I'm so tired of feelin bad about the things I've never had any control over I was left on the doorstep of a nunnery late one night the nuns took me in but on seeing I was jus a little boy the Mother Superior sent me off to the asylum that was home? to abandoned little boys...</description></item></rdf:RDF>