Even a locksmith could not retrieve Excalibur from the stone.A Poem by andrew mitchell
There was no need
to throw away the key no longer could he love the key to his heart had rusted. © 2017 andrew mitchell |
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Added on December 23, 2017 Last Updated on December 23, 2017 Author
andrew mitchelladelaide, AustraliaAboutStrindberg said. " When I come home and sit at my writing table, then I live.... I live, and I live in manifold fashion of all human beings. I depict; I am glad with the glad, wicked with the wicked,.. more.. |
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