When now and then upon this planet she lets fall, Out of her idleness and sorrow, a secret tear, Some poet -- an enemy of slumber, musing apart -- Catches in his cupped hands the unearthly tribute, all Fiery and iridescent like an opal's sphere, And hides it from the sun for ever in his heart. |
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Recent Works: gMac skin for gmail. | |||||||||||||||||
Grey / grey | |||||||||||||||||
Untitled #1 | |||||||||||||||||
Contact [email protected] |
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Landscape |