Dear No one who cares about little calves and
bees and butterflies and peppermint trees and deer and antelope and little
dorks who go around the house saying hi-ho the work is done the grass is
asleep and the sheep is short and the bugs who bite and the girls at the
supermarket who sing merry christmas,
Hallowed be they name.
Your deepest enemie for life and for death til death do us part in this mortal
life of trees and bees and seas and teas and decrees and setees and beaches
and boomerangs and nosehairs and me,
Bull