One Of The Advantages Of Being Disorganized

You Gave Me Christopher Robin, And Then You Breathed New Life In Pooh. Whatever Of Each Has Left My Pen Goes Homing Back To You. My Book Is Ready, And Comes To Greet The Mother It Longs To See -- It Would Be My Present To You, My Sweet, If It Weren't Your Gift To Me.

And That, Said John, Is That.

And By And By Christopher Robin Came To The End Of Things, And He Was Silent, And He Sat There, Looking Out Over The World, Just Wishing It Wouldn't Stop.

The Old Grey Donkey, Eeyore Stood By Himself In A Thistly Corner Of The Forest, His Front Feet Well Apart, His Head On One Side, And Thought About Things. Sometimes He Thought Sadly To Himself, "why?" And Sometimes He Thought, "wherefore?" And Sometimes He Thought, "inasmuch As Which?" And Sometimes He Didn't Quite Know What He Was Thinking About.

For I Am A Bear Of Very Little Brain, And Long Words Bother Me.