Tuesday, 28 August 2012


Four I remembered from a number as I was falling asleep (1998)

If the mighty Woggle falls from your grip,
Into untold anarchy this land will slip.

The ancient Casket opens, reveals the sin,
The tissues may not be square within!

From bright Hyperion he falls to Earth,
But bumped his knee before his birth.

If Guardian Angels should fall from grace,
God raises them to their rightful place.

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