Thanks, Mike
I want to sing in flights of us–
not from this tuneless sob
you call instrument and I call broken flute;
not from this stave that stalls, half-crafted
you call talent and I call wasted;
I want to joy in you–
not sit and sift ashes
you call collateral damage and I call evidence
not to blame, but identify the bird bones
you call phoenix and I call birthless.
There is no arising for this us
you would name after legend.
Susan Daniels Poetry 
Yay, so our melting pot runneth!
Yep! The tightening really worked well.
You rock, bear-man.
Actually I roll – but that’s mince-pies for you 😉
Hee, hee. BTW, I love mince pie. Have to be the one of the few south of the Canadian border here that do…
Get off – they’re mine!
Oh, I can’t fight a panda–you have claws. Guess I will have to go make my own. Sigh…
There’s poignancy in this, and since you’ve given me the earworm… http://youtu.be/r5fKOLa4kVo
Nelle, thank you.
another winner!
Thank you, Noel.