BLOG

A looking glass receives no fading mist, Laid on the icy and immovable lips.They do not know that I am in a atlas peak chardonnay trance.Most human calculations end in loss, And every one who has a plan devised, Is like a foolish walker on a rope, First balancing on this side, then on that, Hazarding much to gain a paltry end And if the rope of calculation breaks, Or if the foot slip, added to mishap Come the world's jeers and gibes and so 'tis best.He is her husband, and he leaves her there, And takes her jewels and her atlas peak chardonnay only purse, And in a ship embarks for other shores.All is so dark since they have shut my eyes I think it cruel in them to do that Shut out the light of day and every chance That I could ever have of seeing Grace.And then I made Strange passes with atlas peak chardonnay my hands, and braced my will, To sway her will then with a questioning glance She passed out to a calm Mesmeric sleep.The night before the murder was to be, I drew my long, keen dagger from its sheath, And stole on down the marble stair way, past The throne room, to the curtained arch wherein My brothers lay asleep.I atlas peak chardonnay.Gianni is a bearer of my pall, And Grace is choked with sobs, and follows on.VEERA atlas peak chardonnay.