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Young Writers Society


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You should check for any Miss Spellings.
While you ponder this, enjoy a poem:


Heat (1947)
by Hilda Doolittle

O wind, rend open the heat,

cut apart the heat,

rend it to tatters.



Fruit cannot drop

through this thick air--

fruit cannot fall into heat

that presses up and blunts

the points of pears

and rounds the grapes.



Cut the heat--

plough through it,

turning it on either side

of your path.



Love is friendship that has caught fire. It is quiet understanding, mutual confidence, sharing and forgiving. It is loyalty through good and bad times. It settles for less than perfection and makes allowances for human weaknesses.
— Ann Landers