Corr. to Ruth Doerfler

A whimsicle character that you are Roo.
I miss you in a unique way,
Perhaps the first time, the time it was
That I found you in the wood.
among jugs of syrup, and aside a whistle.

A family of Doerfler among the trees of quebec,
it was 6 weeks I spent among trees alike in quebec,
for the harvest of summer was to be full as was,
and the harvest of autumn I worked for not to ever meet.
Sadly I came not to pass your way.

You mentioned accumulation of things in life,
and the need to expell physical energy.
What is your goal; Has it been set?
There is a lot in you to offer, I sense potential.

I have a friend in search of a flutist.
A magical minstrel and musical poet he is.
For his guitar rests in Hamilton, Ontario,
by his bed, and Macmaster’s campus.
And his celloist, alike his flutist, are none but in his mind.

If you wish to head out his way to do,
what ever you quest to do,
then do, if there’s one thing you should truly do,
call for me and I will help you find him.

As for now I sing with the birds,
I breathe like the tulips,
I chant like the wind,
and I dance like the stars.

Take care roo,

-Philip