They hop, they kiss, they turn each way . . .

The light now lingers longer
as February prepares to slip away . .

The Grammarian In his cheek he placed his tongue And penned a giddy little song About a girl whose step was wrong When she took a dip without her thong. Or when we get the same vowels together That often makes us wonder whether It makes the novice foreigner hate us Because it’s an exemplar …

There is a prize we cannot pay . . .

Along the forest path, the brave and bold knight rode . .