Onto prophets by the fire and the knowledge gleaned from that.
There is ash beneath the wood consumed by flame.
Whatever the width.
I’ll invent, I’ll introduce, innovative idioms.
You are my favourite place.
Life’s a wander ’round the harbourside.
Will it be as the still air?
Three, four, and an Oxford comma.
Beneath the raised voices sinks the sound of someone leaving…
It’s a long, long way away,
no matter how you hold it.
Perhaps you know it all already. Do you?
Five to open.
This is the present moment.