Gorillas in the Mist

It's always fun to dance with a gorilla. Preferably when you are in London for Guy Fawkes Day. For the record, gorillas and Guy Fawkes Day don't go together - unless you happen to think that conspirators should be considered gorillas. Which I hope not because you would be missing the fun of a breakdancing gorilla at a house party in Clapham (near Battersea Park) after the customary fireworks presentation earlier in the evening.

Luckily for the monarchy, Guy Fawkes and fellow conspirators were caught before they were able to create anarchy within the kingdom with their plot to blow up the Parliament. The fireworks and burning in effigy are the British way to cleanse the impure thoughts of such an act - cathartic on a beautiful night with fireworks synchronized to music south of London Victoria Station. So, in such moments of purity, it is only natural to lurk with gorillas in the mist, who can re-awaken the soul on a cool London night.

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Everyday Love Poem to my Wife

Over a year of marriage carries Happiness, love, and sometimes cranberries But eventually the pace slows down, Work intrudes, some days a frown And suddenly the world has changed. What we must do is simply rearrange The days so that other things fit neatly In their own places, and move on sweetly To the beauties of the everyday together. Because there is love everywhere, wherever You shall be - and perhaps also Rosie - This is a good thing naturally, So good to state it thus and remember That only frigid mornings in November Can keep us apart, but only so long As the work day lasts because so strong Is our pact that I worry not a wink - Your loveliness is worth so much, I think.

Muggles...

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