No doubt somewhere over the rainbow way up high there are things of which we have never dreamed, not even in our deepest sleeps. And there are wonders and visions and things to which we should aspire if only we knew they were there, and voices so beautiful that we would weep if we could hear them.
Tattered clothing on your chair,
Sticking plaster in your hair
Futile gestures, pointless acts
Fastened down with sealing wax.
Let's all give a big hand for the holy monkey.
Joys delivered this evening - the deaf man's fourth and the Bruch Violin concerto.
posted by Weasel @ 11:44 PM
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