You're in love and a lot of things seem to change: time seems to fly by while the moon seems to stand still.

All the while your heart seems to do

triple time.

Your life is in a twirl.

And your head is in a spin.

Is as if you drunk too much coffee.

Your world is in a buzz with questions.

Everything seems so

You want to sing.

Such are the vagaries of love.

From New York

I said:

"I wish you were my wife.

You're so pretty."

Then, I handed her my hand.

She said:

"In your face, Mac!"

"Honey,"

I said,

as smoothly as I could,

"You're some cello.

I wish I could pull your strings

because, boy, can I play the cello."

"Ah!..." she exclaimed. "You're a music lover."

"Honey,"

I said.

I just love my gello ...

I mean cello."

She squeezed

my hand

and I put

my hand

around my cello

and whispered

into her ear:

"Honey,

the name is Ken,

not Mac."

Thinking of you

on Fifth Avenue,

Ken

Bye.

From New York

Nassau Lake

Let me take you

to my land

A land of memories

rich and warm

A land of blue breezes

and evergreen tepees,

sling shots and fish

in log covered waters.

It is the land of the

red and black striped

MacKinaw jacket

the land where timber crashes

accompany the chainsaw call

of the loon.

The noise of the mill

in the background

men at play

in the foreground

with trucks

and tractors,

John Deeres.

(Nassau Lake,

the best blueberry country

in the world.)

La mère est comblée.

Joyeux Noël!

de 1996 :

Elles sont belles

ses Françaises

avec ses ailes

De belles poulettes

ne mie rondettes

Leurs mines

fémines

font tournoyer ma girouette

Parce qu'elles,

ses mies,

Marine, Severine et Sophie,

savent faire la conquête à la française.

by the way:

Who am I?

Why!

me

CREE. :-)

The End

La fin

I am. We are. Same, yet different.

I am because you are.

I, we, you.We are 3.

Scribo vobis ...

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Updated: March 7, 1999

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