6535. THE SUGAR OF THE GREAT VOLCANO

THE SUGAR OF 

THE GREAT VOLCANO

I can be all yours : not mannered like a draftsman

making lines, but more clumsy, like a sculptor playing

with his clay. (Now goes the sun, under the wood. I

pity, Mary, thy fair face). My hive is here stacked with

innards  -  graceful bitters, but bitters nonetheless.

-

I will stack the wood. In the corner of this shed/barn,

as cord-stock, an item of this grand size should be

well-supplied. This can burn for another month,

and keep us well and warm. (Now goes the sun,

under the wood. I pity, Mary, thy fair face).