~ Cambridge in the Long – Amy Levy πŸ’₯

Where drowsy sound of college-chimes
Across the air is blown,
And drowsy fragrance of the limes,
I lie and dream alone.

A dazzling radiance reigns o’er all–
O’er gardens densely green,
O’er old grey bridges and the small,
Slow flood which slides between.

This is the place; it is not strange,
But known of old and dear.–
What went I forth to seek? The change
Is mine; why am I here?

Alas, in vain I turned away,
I fled the town in vain;
The strenuous life of yesterday
Calleth me back again.

And was it peace I came to seek?
Yet here, where memories throng,
Ev’n here, I know the past is weak,
I know the present strong.

This drowsy fragrance, silent heat,
Suit not my present mind,
Whose eager thought goes out to meet
The life it left behind.

Spirit with sky to change; such hope,
An idle one we know;
Unship the oars, make loose the rope,
Push off the boat and go. . .

Ah, would what binds me could have been
Thus loosened at a touch!
This pain of living is too keen,
Of loving, is too much.

~ Cambridge in the Long – Amy Levy


~ Christopher Found – Amy LevyπŸ’₯


At last; so this is you, my dear!
How should I guess to find you here?
So long, so long, I sought in vain
In many cities, many lands,
With straining eyes and groping hands;
The people marvelled at my pain.
They said: “But sure, the woman’s mad;
What ails her, we should like to know,
That she should be so wan and sad,
And silent through the revels go?”
They clacked with such a sorry stir!
Was I to tell? were they to know
That I had lost you, Christopher?
Will you forgive me for one thing?
Whiles, when a stranger came my way,
My heart would beat and I would say :
” Here’s Christopher!” –then lingering
With longer gaze, would turn away
Cold, sick at heart. My dear, I know
You will forgive me for this thing.
It is so very long ago
Since I have seen your face–till now;
Now that I see it–lip and brow,
Eyes, nostril, chin, alive and clear;
Last time was long ago; I know
This thing you will forgive me, dear.


There is no Heaven–This is the best;
O hold me closer to your breast;
Let your face lean upon my face,
That there no longer shall be space
Between our lips, between our eyes.
I feel your bosom’s fall and rise.
O hold me near and yet more near;
Ah sweet ; I wonder do you know
How lone and cold, how sad and drear,
Was I a little while ago;
Sick of the stress, the strife, the stir;
But I have found you, Christopher.


If only you had come before!
(This is the thing I most deplore)
A seemlier woman you had found,
More calm, by courtesies more bound,
Less quick to greet you, more subdued
Of appetite; of slower mood.
But ah! you come so late, so late!
This time of day I can’t pretend
With slight, sweet things to satiate
The hunger-cravings. Nay, my friend,
I cannot blush and turn and tremble,
Wax loth as younger maidens do.
Ah, Christopher, with you, with you,
You would not wish me to dissemble?


So long have all the days been meagre,
With empty platter, empty cup,
No meats nor sweets to do me pleasure,
That if I crave–is it over-eager,
The deepest draught, the fullest measure,
The beaker to the brim poured up?


Shelley, that sprite from the spheres above,
Says, and would make the matter clear,
That love divided is larger love;–
We’ll leave those things to the bards, my dear.
For you never wrote a verse, you see;
And I–my verse is not fair nor new.
Till the world be dead, you shall love but me,
Till the stars have ceased, I shall love but you.


Thus ran the words; or rather, thus did run
Their purport. Idly seeking in the chest
(You see it yonder), I had found them there:
Some blotted sheets of paper in a case,
With a woman’s name writ on it: “Adelaide.”
Twice on the writing there was scored the date
Of ten years back; and where the words had end
Was left a space, a dash, a half-writ word,
As tho’ the writer minded, presently
The matter to pursue.
I questioned her,
That worthy, worthy soul, my chΓ’telaine,
Who, nothing loth, made answer.
There had been
Another lodger ere I had the rooms,
Three months gone by–a woman.
“Young, sir ? No.
Must have seen forty if she’d seen a day!
A lonesome woman; hadn’t many friends;
Wrote books, I think, and things for newspapers.
Short in her temper–eyes would flash and flame
At times, till I was frightened. Paid her rent
Most regular, like a lady.
Ten years back,
They say (at least Ann Brown says), ten years back
The lady had a lover. Even then
She must have been no chicken.
Three months since
She died. Well, well, the Lord is kind and just.
I did my best to tend her, yet indeed
It’s bad for trade to have a lodger die.
Her brother came, a week before she died:
Buried her, took her things, threw in the fire
The littered heaps of paper.
Yes, the sheets,
They must have been forgotten in the chest;–
I never knew her name was Adelaide.”

~ Christopher Found – Amy Levy


“YOGI BEAR IS MY HERO!” a poem March 29, 2019 (Friday)

Now, isn’t everyone looking to find blame somewhere?

[To-have-sex-change-operations* – and-to-implant new hair!?**]

To-rely – on-the-pharmacies, which really don’t care?

Just like-some-politicians, who are nasty – and dare,

To-just-TAKE-ADVANTAGE! Hasn’t-anyone-“got-a-pair?”

Can’t-we-limit “devices?” They’re-EXPENSE-and-they-BLARE,

OUT! at-odd-times! Come!-Let’s-all-go-to-“The-Fair!”

We’ll-eat-candied apples! and-ride-“rides,” and share,

With others! LIKE: Offering-a-frail-friend-our-chair!


And-I-love-Yogi-Bear!*** πŸ™‚ – Hey, hey, Boo-Boo

fin <3

* – in another dimension, people just wish they are “the opposite sex” & POOF! Here, you can do that sort of thing IF you have enough money! Well, if you really have to do that and you are ready to go through all of the difficulties and you feel that you will feel better because of it, GO FOR IT! It’s YOUR LIFE!

** – Lots of people seem to be getting new hair these days! Life is sometimes about losing hair, sometimes about getting lots of new hair! It is another case of: “I do not like THIS about myself, so I am going to change it!” Again, IF you just have to get a bunch of new hair or use a lotion to stimulate growth, GO FOR IT! It’s YOUR LIFE! Just remember, guys! Some ladies just LOVE that “hairless look!” πŸ™‚

*** – and Meghan Trainor



That men with balding hairline have a

Very high level of testosterone count

Have higher sex drives πŸ˜πŸ˜ŠπŸ˜ƒ

Please watch this video if you want to be healthy.

My HUSBAND is bald cause I shave off his hair to make me happy. Studies show mature me without hair are very sexy to women . 😁

The downside is I’m very busy finding time to shave his head bald. 😁 So if you love your super sexy man bald you better have the time. 😁 Anyway my Husband loves me shaving his total body bald πŸ˜πŸ˜ƒπŸ˜ŠπŸ€—

I love my Husband just the way he is when he’s bald 😁

My HUSBAND is not allowed to grow hair 😁

My HUSBAND is bald yipppeee πŸ˜πŸ˜ŠπŸ€—


“HER LEGS ARE LIKE PILLARS, GUARDING THE PASSAGE-WAY TO JOY AND HOPE!” a poem in the series: “Under Cover Poems, Intended For Skin To Skin Contact Plus All!” March 29, 2019 (Friday)

At the entrance to Your Pussy, I-am -so-urged to come!
A hand comes out and motions “here,” with an uplifted thumb.

A voice says: “Welcome, Lover,” seeker of “The Juice!”
Some milky fluid bubbles up – Our passion’s on the loose!

With a fine aroma! I’ve got great-appetite,
For what is offered there! and, I’m higher than a kite!

I read about this on-line, on-a-site-called: “Feminine Wiles;”
I understand- for-me, in-there, there will be many miles,

Of ever pleasant journey-ing – for-It’s-my-Heavenly Home;
I like to “meditate” with you! We have perfected “OHM!”

And also Oo-oo-oo-oo – and Ah-AH! is so nice;
There is a lot of sugar there; (pause) also exotic spice!

But-my-favorite-is-in-the-pussy – of-my gorgeous wife!

Of course, I’ve other poetry, about her breasts and hair,
About my fix-a-[sa]tion – upon her underwear!

And I shall write, as I am able, but-it-can-be HARD to-“pen,”
When my lover, who-is-my-wife – stimulates my “yen!” πŸ™‚ – Le Sigh!

fin <3


“REGRETTING REGRET! a poem March 29, 2019 (Friday) for: Chance!

She’s got FEAR!!!! I do too;
Feeling guilty; feeling blue!

I can’t handle – much at all!
Here we go!! Let’s jump! Let’s FALL!

I’m-falling-with-you – we’re hand in hand!
And WE ARE PERFECT, we-now-understand.

We-were-refined – in fire pure!
THERE-ARE-NO-MISTAKES! Life is the cure,
For God (or Something) loves us still;
It-simply-is: GOD’S PERFECT WILL!

I love you – and you love me,

NOW, regret is FAR AWAY,

fin <3

Marie Curie with Albert Einstein.

Marie Curie with Albert Einstein.

I have commented on this famous photo before; two of the greatest minds ever together in Switzerland at a conference of eminent physicists and chemists; which made up the series known as the Solvay conferences. They were good fiends and colleagues, but Curie was still immersed in her grief and the disgraceful slights handed out to her by French officialdom, and Einstein was trying to deal with the mess of his divorce and remarriage. They had a major number of personal issues.

Today’s Gossip πŸ€—