Dripping dreams of life away,
Dreaming drips night and day,
Can you hear the waters lap?
How many dreams left in the tap.
And one for the Monster:
Bump!
Things that go bump in the night,
Should not really give one a fright.
It's the hole in each ear
That lets in the fear,
That, and the absence of light!
For big, for little, for all. Spike Milligan. My hero. Providing comfort, laughter and a certain melancholy for more years than I care to remember.

I like that touch of poetry to your post.
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