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gri_2003_m_46_b01_f11_055

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  1. WINNER - 65296610 - saffyre13
  2. 65316123 - SansSouci
  3. 65328167 - not-logged-in-758f551e0c32c5aed96c
  4. 65339380 - Albrithr
  5. 65345752 - not-logged-in-5f87763c07f6e9342c9c
  6. 65363437 - southsidesunny

WINNER - 65296610 - saffyre13

24th December 1948 Wimbledon.

Dearest Sylvia,

The gift from the Rectory Owls enchants me. Will you kindly read to them this hurried but sincere thank you poem?

Like a juggler eating fire
Like a hat of clouds on the sun
An owl sits on the flame
And in the dark lovers meet
As in the shadow of a wing
Hidden by their totem
Who eats fire every night.

Dearest, he is delicious. I admire him full-face and profile. He is surprised and grave, naive and mysterious, hopeful yet possessed in expression.
Thank you so much for him (he will be company for the other two as well as for me). Your lyrical and witty gift is now my treasure.
* * *
You say in your letter that I am the only person you know who believes in love. Dearest, remember who taught me love. Do you no longer believe in its power then? I am sure that you do, behind the tangle of conflicting im-

65316123 - SansSouci

24th December 1948 Wimbledon.

Dearest Sylvia,

The gift from the Rectory Owls enchants me. Will you kindly read to them this hurried but sincere thank you poem?

Like a juggler eating fire
Like a hat of clouds on the sun
An owl sits on the flame
And in the dark lovers meet
As in the shadow of a wing
Hidden by their totem
Who eats fire every night.

Dearest, he is delicious. I admire him full-face and profile. He is surprised and grave, naive and mysterious, hopeful yet possessed in expression. Thank you so much for him (he will be company for the other two as well as for me). Your lyrical and witty gift is now my treasure.

* * *

You say in your letter than I am the only person you know who believes in love. Dearest, remember who taught me love. Do you no longer believe in its power then? I am sure that you do, behind the tangle of conflicting im-

65328167 - not-logged-in-758f551e0c32c5aed96c

65339380 - Albrithr

24th December 1948
Wimbledon.

Dearest Sylvia,

The gift from the Rectory Owls enchants me. Will you kindly read to them this hurried but sincere thank you poem?

Like a juggler eating fire
Like a hat of clouds on the sun
An owl sits on the flame
And in the dark lovers meet
As in the shadow of a wing
Hidden by their totem
Who eats fire every night.

Dearest, he is delicious. I admire him full-face and profile. He is surprised and grave, naive and mysterious, hopeful yet possessed in expression. Thank you so much for him (he will be company for the other two as well as for me). Your lyrical and witty gift is now my treasure.

***

You say in your letter that I am the only person you know who believes in love. Dearest, remember who taught me love. Do you no longer believe in its power then? I am sure that you do, behind the tangle of conflicting im-

65345752 - not-logged-in-5f87763c07f6e9342c9c

24th December 1948 Wimbledon.
Dearest Sylvia,

The gift from the Rectory Owls enchants me. Will you kindly read to them this hurried but sincere thank you poem?

Like a juggler eating fire
Like a hat of clouds on the sun
An owl sits on the flame
And in the dark lovers meet
As in the shadow of a wing
Hidden by their totem
Who eats fire every night.

Dearest, he is delicious. I admire him full-face and profile. He is surprised and grave, naive and mysterious, hopeful yet possessed in expression. Thank you so much for him (he will be company for the other two as well as for me). Your lyrical and witty gift is now my treasure.

You say in your letter that I am the only person you know who believes in love. Dearest, remember who taught me love. Do you no longer believe in its power then? I am sure that you do, behind the tangle of conflicting im-

65363437 - southsidesunny

24th December 1948 Wimbledon

Dearest Sylvia,

The gift from the Rectory Owls
enchants me. Will you kindly read
to them this hurried but sincere thank
you poem?
Like a juggler eating fire
Like a hat of clouds on the sun
An owl sits on the flame
And in the dark lovers meet
As in the shadow of a wing
Hidden by their totem
Who eats fire every night.

Dearest, he is delicious. I admire
him full-face and profile. He is sur-
prised and grave, naive and mysterious,
hopeful yet possessed in expression.
Thank you so much for him (he will be
company for the other two as well as
for me). Your lyrical and witty gift
is now my treasure.
* * *
You say in your letter that I am
the only person you know who believes
in love. Dearest, remember who taught
me love. Do you no longer believe in
its power then? I am sure that you
do, behind the tangle of conflicting im-

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