The holly, ilex aquafolium, bears leaves of stiff, shiny green. Its charming red berries tantalize the eye. These berries can be used unsuccessfully as medicine against many afflictions and religious crossroads. The tough holly leaf has a stiff, poky feature that can tear the inside of the mouth. This makes them inedible, thus all the more attractive for medicinal use. Rising suns and running deer somehow have become associated with the holly. Make them therefore part of your winter solstice celebration while the dark forces lay in wait. The spines on the holly leaf can represent the crown of thorns that adorn that famous guy. Defy Rome or whatever skullduggery of potentate, let symbols run wild. Without excessive effluvia the holly can offer calming thoughts and quaint caroling amidst the hazard of time. Various functions remain to the winding year. Brave the down sun and lift high what voice you have. Let myriad crisp masses lift you to the top of whatever bottom you now inhabit. The sun will reach the holly in you once more.
The work becomes chiding of sunlight. The work is elegy and shaded. The principle ciphers as a god, in the way transience is purpose. Transience works this brief, ending fields, making trees concern. The hell of halting midway identifies the work of burning thru. Forever makes a sign. Sign makes worthy. Indeed the tramp of feet forward concludes any sentences but suggests more. Long sentences, stupid words. The caroling heard by Dante, brilliantine remorse for a better tide. The long road up from down, and turned around. The work then becomes the work now, as stained glass similitude. Anxious in the class structure of catastrophe, the baying song over all. Nothing to do but be done. Ruskin gave you papers to remind you. Slow battering concedes the earth in time. Time being functional and oblique. The worker inside sees the nation by exhalation. Transitive connection sports of culture. The class that ends becomes the class that begins, both left and right.
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