gri_2003_m_46_b05_f01_013
- Max. dissimilarity: 0.532
- Mean dissimilarity: 0.208
- Image votes: 0.0
Transcribers
- 68906426 - not-logged-in-54f6d4b79a7c3b16385d
- WINNER - 69267652 - HauteDoy777
- 69356534 - jesseytucker
- 69627670 - Chris5420
- 69757072 - Crazycatz935
- 69783876 - not-logged-in-4c10d03781e2791b732b
68906426 - not-logged-in-54f6d4b79a7c3b16385d
Blackheath8 1952
Dearest Sylvia,
it was wonderful to talk to you personally this morning, even for six minutes. oh what a pleasure it is to hear your voice again and not read your letter after and interval of 24 hours.I am sorry that I worried you on monday by my silence. your letters were rather shattering but I think there is justification for what you say. I love you so much: I hope that soon I shall have some good news for you.
Here is a poem for you:
spy of the star, my aberant silver,
Travel had followed your directions,
Like a girl's breast near to broken glass.
I was my own frustrating poseidon,
spooning the water into gree delays,
while Doubt's suitors trespassed on my floor.
You have no reason to believe read
Directions by the growing sun again
and not
WINNER - 69267652 - HauteDoy777
Blackheath8 i 1952
Dearest Sylvia,
It was wonderful to talk to you personally this morning, even for six minutes. Oh what a pleasure it is to hear your voice again and not read your letters after an interval of 24 hours. I am sorry that I worried you on Monday by my silence. Your letters were rather shattering but I think there is justification for what you say. I love you so much: I hope that soon I shall have some good news for you.
Here is a poem for you:
Spy of the stars, my aberrant silver,
Travel had followed your directions, like a girl's breast near to broken glass.
I was my own frustrating Poseidon, Spooning the water into green delays,
While Doubt's suitors trespassed on my floor.
You have no reason to believe I read
Directions by the growing sun again
And not by snail tracks and the splinter stars:
You will know that this is so by waiting
For moments of the future. When I come
I'll bend the bow of Eros for you again.
The weir no longer drags my craft.
Oh watch the nearness of the sea, for gold
Of sunlight carried to your feet by water.
I wrote this after receiving your telegram. It was so sweet of you to send it. Please be re-assured of my love and, I hope, of greater responsibility on my part.
As you may know the Sevenoaks lecture is one of Alison Kelly's lectures I have taken over. It consists of a Van Gogh reproduction and lots of pieces of colored felt to play with. I must try and think of something plausible to do with all these bits. She only gave the material to me yesterday. So I must break off now and do a little work on it. I will go on with this letter later this afternoon, probably after the lecture.
69356534 - jesseytucker
Blackheath8 i 1952
Dearest Sylvia,
It was wonderful to talk to you personally this morning,
even for six minutes. Oh what a pleasure it is to hear your
voice again and not read your letters after an interval of
24 hours. I am sorry that I worried you on Monday by my sil-
lence. Your letters were rather shattering but I think there
is justification for what you say. I love you so much: I
hope that soon I shall home some good news for you.
Here is a poem for you:
Spy of the stars, my aberant silver,
Travel had followed your directions,
Like a girl's breast near to broken glass.
I was my own frustrating Poseidon,
Spooning the water into green delays,
While Doubt's suitors trespassed on my floor.
You have no reason to believe I read
Directions by the growing sun again
And not by snail tracks and the splinter stars:
You will know that this is so by waiting
For moments of the future. When I come
I'll bend the bow of Eros for you again.
The wier no longer drags my craft.
Oh watch the nearness of the sea, for gold
Of sunlight carried to your feet by water.
I wrote this after receiving your telegram. It was so
sweet of you to send it. Please be re-assured of my love
and, I hope, of greater responsibility on my part.
As you may know the Sevencaks lecture is one of Alison
Kelly's lectures I have taken over. It consists of a Van
Gogh reproduction and lots of pieces of colored flat to play
with. I must try and think of something plausible to do with
all this bits. She only gave the material to me yesterday.
So I must break off now and do a little work on it. I will
go on with this letter later this afternoon, probably after
the lecture.
69627670 - Chris5420
Blackheath6 i 1952
Dearest Sylvia,
It was wonderful to talk to you personally this morning,
even for six minutes. Oh what a pleasure it is to hear your
voice again and not read your letters after an interval of
24 hours. I am sorry that I worried you on Monday by my sil-
ence. Your letters were rather shattering but I think there
is justification for what you say. I love you so much: I
hope that soon I shall have some good news for you.
Here is a poem for you:
Spy of the stars, my aberant silver,
Travel had followed your directions,
Like a girl's breast near to broken glass.
I was my own frustrating Poseidon,
Spooning the water into green delays,
While Doubt's suitors trespassed on my floor.
You have no reason to believe I read
Directions by the growing sun again
And not by snail tracks and the splintered stars:
You will know that this is so by waiting
For moments of the future. When I come
I'll bend the bow of Eros for you again.
The weir no longer drags my craft,
Oh watch the nearness of the sea, for gold
Of sunlight carried to your feet by water.
I wrote this after receiving your telegram. It was so
sweet of you to send it. Please be reassured of my love
and, I hope, of greater resposibility on my part.
As you may know the Sevenoak's le ture is one of Alison
Kelly's lectures I have taken over. It consists of a Van
Gogh reproduction and lots of pieces of coloured felt to play
with. I must try and think of something plausible to do with
all these bits. She only gave the material to me yesterday.
So I must break off now and do a little work on it. I will
go on with this letter later this afternoon, probably after
the lecture.
69757072 - Crazycatz935
Blackheath8 1 1952
Dearest Sylvia,
It was wonderful to talk to you personally this morning,
even for six minutes. Oh what a pleasure it is to hear your
voice again and not read your letters after an interval of
24 hours. I am sorry that I worried you on Monday by my sil-
ence. Your letters were rather shattering but I think there
is justification for what you say. I love you so much: I
hope that soon I shall have some good news for you.
Here is a poem for you:
Spy of the stars, my aberrant silver,
Travel had followed your directions,
Like a girl's breast near to broken glass.
I was my own frustrating Poseidon,
Spooning the water into green delays,
While Doubt's suitors trespassed on my floor.
You have no reason to believe read
Directions by the growing sun again
And not by snail tracks and splintered stars:
You will know that this is so by waiting
For moments of the future. When I come
I'll bend the bow of Eros for you again.
The wier no longer drags my craft.
Oh watch the nearness of the sea, for gold
Of sunlight carried to your feet by water.
I wrote this after receiving your telegram. It was so
sweet of you to send it. Please be re-assured of my love
and, I hope, of greater responsibility on my part.
As you may know the Sevenoaks lecture is one of Alison
Kelly's lectures I have taken over. It consists of a Van
Gogh reproduction and lots of pieces of colored felt to play
with. I must try and think of something plausible to do with
all the bits. She only gave the material to me yesterday.
So I must break off now and do a little work on it. I will
go on with this letter later this afternoon, probably after
the lecture.
69783876 - not-logged-in-4c10d03781e2791b732b
Blackheath8 i 1952
Dearest Sylvia,
It was wonderful to talk to you personally this morning, even for six minutes. Oh what a pleasure it is to hear your voice again and not read your letters after an interval of 24 hours. I am sorry that I worried you on Monday by my silence. Your letters were rather shattering but I think there is justification for what you say. I love you so much: I hope that soonI shall have some good news for you.
Here is a poem for you:
Spy of the stars, my aberrant silver,
Travel had followed your directions,
Like a girl's breast near to broken glass.
I was my own frustrating Poseidon,
Spooning the water into greek delays,
While Doubt's suitors trespassed on my floor.
You have no reason to believe I read
Directions by the growing sun again
And not by snail tracks and the splintered stars:
You will know that this is so by waiting
For moments of the future. When I come
I'll bend the bow of Eros for you again.
The wire no longer drags my craft.
Oh watch the nearness of the seas, for gold
Of sunlight carried to your feet by water.
I wrote this after receiving your telegram. It was so sweet of won to send it. Please be re-assured of my love and, I hope, of greater responsibility on my part.
As you may know the Sevenoaks lecture is one of Alison Kelly's lectures I have taken over. It consists of a Van Gogh reproduction and lots of pieces of colored felt to play with. I must try and think of something plausible to do with all the bits. She only gave the material to me yesterday. So I must break off now and do a little work on it. I will go on with this letter later this afternoon, probably after the lecture.