Shownotes
There's nothing that a day of racquetball can't cure
Which summer caused it in a mighty spring!
Perhaps it had some heart in that dear plight
Could help a soul beyond its path like fire.
Borne by the goal's insistent passion,
Joy's sweet view into your random form,
A smile to your soul as the sparkling run—
Smile in the passing of the winter's dart.
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