I'm left chasing echoes in small, empty rooms...
And so I sit, waiting for it to rain again...
I have many questions for the seagull as I sit on toadstools, eating treacle...
My Neglectful Muse
But here I've stood all alone without my neglectful muse.
Ruminations of a Working Man: Here I Sit
So here I sit, desperately trying to not be a poor excuse for a working man.
Ever Weigh Anchor
And ever faithful he shall be for sea brought him more joy than she. Better a man live a life of leave with enlivened heart 'neath tattered sleeve.