Langwidge. In an exhalation, Unnoticed, unbidden, A breath from the Mountain Gods Swept down to some ancient sea. The Ling-Lang it bore crazed us all. Shotgun French, and mistralling, We spent precious lead on a fleeting image We might only ever wing. Yet, the foolish still gibber, And only wise men can sing. Edward Hughes 2008. Hanging Out The Washing. I was only saying to Auntie Hegel the other day, 'Auntie', I said, 'You simply cannot adduce the facts of Religion from Historical Science. There's a stinking canal's breadth deterring any leap of Faith'. That shut her up, I can tell you, But I knew she'd pass it on. Edward Hughes 2008 Aspiring To Silence. Naturally, Thank God, All things, I mean all things, Are meaningless. They wash down the stream, And miss out on the process. Experience is a dream, And Reason is scopeless. Yet, every pulse sings, And every rock pos...