January 18, 2014 9:07pm As the gentle sun begins to move across the peaks of twin mountains,
There from descends flowing streams that move out into the artistic landscape.
It nurtures the fields and puddles into a small pond.
As the pond begins to spill, the liquids flow around the gentle hills, it disappears.
But no, it again emerges as a warm spring from a crevice down in the valley toward which all human nature streams. For therein lies the most tasteful spot that springs forth in great sensation. What evil law of gods or men can forbid the greatest sensual pleasure to be found among mere mortal men.
