From the edge of time,
I sought a rhyme,
but couldn't find the sign.
There is a fine line,
between fair and fine,
didn't know the difference.
The spelling was checked,
the logic was wrecked,
and the main point slid off,
in the distance.
But how to know,
when the brain is slow,
and drifting into insistence.
Faster than light,
a fine line write,
pops into view.
Seized for the day,
and not flown away,
old saw becomes brand-new.
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Read War's End, the Novel
Copyright 2010 © Ronald W. Hull
4/18/10