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Panic stations begin...

The panic has started.

This time in four weeks I will be in Melbourne again, about to go to Conquest for my sixth year in a row (that in itself worries me). Which means that I have less than four weeks to have all three games I am running ready and able.

One game (No Heir for the Throne of Amber) is a rerun, so all I have to do is go over it some time for spelling mistakes (which I am still finding) and print everything off. No problem.

The panic is somewhat ameliorated by the fact the second game (Friday Night Poker Club - Fellowship of the Rings Edition) is completely written. I still need to work out props (poker chips and the tablecloths mostly) which is going to be annoying, but that's not going to be too much of a problem.

Now I just have to get the characters for the third game (Dead Reckoning) to stop dancing about my head and cooperate!

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June 2018
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Desert Rose

I dream of rain
I dream of gardens in the desert sand
I wake in vain
I dream of love as time runs through my hand

I dream of fire
Those dreams are tied to a horse that will never tire
And in the flames
Her shadows play in the shape of a man's desire

This desert rose
Each of her veils, a secret promise
This desert flower
No sweet perfume ever tortured me more than this

And as she turns
This way she moves in the logic of all my dreams
This fire burns
I realize that nothing's as it seems

I dream of rain
I dream of gardens in the desert sand
I wake in vain
I dream of love as time runs through my hand

I dream of rain
I lift my gaze to empty skies above
I close my eyes
This rare perfume is the sweet intoxication of her love

I dream of rain
I dream of gardens in the desert sand
I wake in vain
I dream of love as time runs through my hand

Sweet desert rose
Each of her veils, a secret promise
This desert flower
No sweet perfume ever tortured me more than this

Sweet desert rose
This memory of Eden haunts us all
This desert flower
This rare perfume, is the sweet intoxication of the fall

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