Sorry I haven't updated in a while-I've been, er, separated from my computer. Never mind why. Anyway, here it is. My next odd musing. Hwyl! -Gwen

**Fishing for Essence**

The immortal soul

Is like a halibut.

Pulled wriggling fresh

From the icy Atlantic.

Or, more likely, served as fish and chips

In a dingy little pub

Somewhere in Shropshire.