I passed to-day still ill, and was unable to attend church this morning or evening. I set up the comments and fooled around with the template, until I exhasted myself- from sitting at a computer- and went back to rest and continue in the Scottish War for Independence.

For Sunday, in abeyance of original material, a bit of poetry I composed while walking out in the local National Forest:

           Ode To A Dogwood



Thy slow-stround frame all thrown

To touch the tips of the star’s meshed veil

And whisper in on nuthatch song-

All ablaze in quickened flame

Thy leafed-fire bends, bends to touch

            the greater frame.