Though some be petite, Some hardly elite, I hope you will find, Some thoughts very sweet. Within my dark purse, A notebook immerse, And hope fills my heart, For fine words to verse. Then quick with a pen, The notebook again, Receives these fair thoughts, To be forgotten. How is it that I, Let these thoughts to fly, Without an exposure, To send out their cry? I fear my rhyming, Causes your eye sting, I readily admit, It is quite lacking. But here you shall find, Dreams, stories, of kind, To while away time, And escape daily grind.