With A Copy Of 'A House Of Pomegranates'
Oscar Wilde

Go, little book,
To him who, on a lute with horns of pearl,
Sang of the white feet of the Golden Girl:
And bid him look
Into thy pages: it may hap that he
May find that golden maidens dance through thee.

Y'know, if you log in, you can write something here, or contact authors directly on the site. Create a New User if you don't already have an account.