California South wrote:The comment you quoted was intended to be humorous. Oh well.
The day is cold, and dark, and dreary;
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
The vine still clings to the mouldering wall,
But at every gust the dead leaves fall,
And the day is dark and dreary.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, The Rainy Day
Last night
the rain
spoke to me
slowly, saying,
what joy
to come falling
out of the brisk cloud,
to be happy again
in a new way
on the earth!
That’s what it said
as it dropped,
smelling of iron,
and vanished
like a dream of the ocean
into the branches
and the grass below.
Then it was over.
The sky cleared.
I was standing
under a tree.
The tree was a tree
with happy leaves,
and I was myself,
and there were stars in the sky
that were also themselves
at the moment
at which moment
my right hand
was holding my left hand
which was holding the tree
which was filled with stars
and the soft rain –
imagine! imagine!
the long and wondrous journeys
still to be ours.
greg~judy wrote:something poetic would be nice...
Andres wrote:greg~judy wrote:something poetic would be nice...
Will classic be suitable? . . . .
"It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in torrents — except at occasional intervals, when it was checked by a violent gust of wind which swept up the streets (for it is in Santiago that our scene lies), rattling along the housetops, and fiercely agitating the scanty flame of the lamps that struggled against the darkness."
patagoniax wrote:I taught a US officer to fire a 40mm blooper there [at the Pendleton ranges] many years ago. The last I heard from him, he had been promoted to BG. Good thing his promotions were not contingent upon his grenade-launching skills.

admin wrote:yea, it might just be a single shot breach loader on steroids, but you really don't want to shoot yourself in the foot with one.
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