The Art of Play

“Let it be” they said as I walked the line
but somewhere along there I missed the sign
so I wandered along, a spectre afore;
I imagined this mist was some sort of door.
But now, as I look with eyes old and anew
I wonder what happened to what was once true.
I know it was there before I lost my way;
perhaps I’ll re-find it – the art of play.

About a foolhardy florilegium

Nullius addictus iurare in verba magistri, quo me cumque rapit tempestas, deferor hospes.
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