Sweeter to me than the salt sea spray
the fragrance of summer rains;
Nearer my heart than the mighty hills
are the wind-swept Kansas plains;
Dearer the sight of a sky wild rose by
the roadside dusty way
Than all the splendor of poppy-fields
ablaze in the sun of May.
Gay as the bold poinsettia is, and the
burden of pepper trees,
The sunflower tawny and gold and brown,
is richer to than these;
And rising ever above the song of the
hoarse insistent sea,
The voice of the prairie calling,
|December 30, 1984
My wife and I fall asleep with the TV on these days. How old is Uncle Ted's TV that it doesn't have a sleep timer?
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