<?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/pentopaperkat"><title>pentopaperkat - Blogit</title><link>https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/pentopaperkat/</link><description>I love a clean piece of paper, pen and a mind full of words.</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/pentopaperkat/906019" /></rdf:Seq></items></channel><item rdf:about="https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/pentopaperkat/906019"><title>THE SOLDIER</title><link>https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/pentopaperkat/906019</link><description>He sits on the stone wall day after days, many do not even know him, they just come there to him to gaze. He had been overseas many years ago, to a foreign land he did not know. He was not given a choice to go or stay, he was drafted by a letter and sent so far away. A handsome young man was he,...</description></item></rdf:RDF>