All things worth praise
That unto Khadeeth’s mart have
From far been brought through perils over-passed,
All santal, myrrh, and spikenard that disarms
The pard’s swift anger; these would weigh but light
‘Gainst thy delights, my Khadeeth! Whence protected
By naught save her great grace that in him showeth,
My song goes forth and on her mercy calleth.
“
The Lord was invited to a gala. Beautiful women, beautiful men, beautiful flowers. Astonishing music from the moment’s finest string quartet. All that was served was champagne and mountains of Kamchatka caviar.
The hosts were somewhat nervous about the Lord’s reaction to the caviar.
After all, the lives of many thousands of female wild salmon were sacrificed for their eggs, and the renewable potential of their offspring lost forever.
But the Lord never showed up.
“
Joy Williams | “Party”