When Calliope or her sisters visit, they sometimes leave a verse or two as a gift. Like most gifts, I treasure them and put them somewhere safe; somewhere that seems entirely reasonable at the time, but ensures that I’ll never be able to find again. These are a few I’ve managed to retrieve; there must be at least a dozen more that I may stumble across some day. Usual disclaimers apply.
- One – and I’m breathing in
- The Gre∆t Pyr∆mids (guest poem by Andy)
- Cornflower’s Gift
- Temporary Angels
- The Old Explorer