I'll end my Johnsonfest with a cheer to Jennifer on her birthday recently. With Olivier giving a welcome cuddle.
And here's a poem from yesteryear to maybe amuse or interest:
Blue-faced boy
Standing with his hands laid
deep within the water of a stone covered
feeder; the boy appears still.
But there are small holes on the other
side, where wings beat incessantly
trying hard to enter and drink.
The figurine upholds its delicate
brushwork and gilded gold, laying definite
lines and aberrations.
His face is blue and the water
has gone into each finger that dances
among the fallen feathers.
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