David Rivard

Find and share the perfect poems. From an old Italian urn grew a red-orange flower like a banner, a lone, stray mood uninterested in progress. The air was damp and sweetish with tuberose and lemon. Meats and herbs seethed in oil and acid. Many nights of brittle hail and long, stiff whips of lightning rattled the wooden shutters. Days filled with oppressive heat that seemed to loop like a rope with a noose. Here is summertime. The world was another several thousand years older in an afternoon.

The new Dataverse Custom API feature (now in General Availability ๐Ÿš€) empowers developers with the ability to create their own custom messages to extends the capabilities of the Power Platform. These custom messages are then exposed by the Dataverse endpoints (WebApi and Organizationservice) like other out-of-the-box messages (Create, Update, etc..).

A bookkeeping man, tho one sure to knock on wood, and mostly light at loose ends—my friend who is superstitiously funny, & always sarcastic—save once, after I’d told him about Simone’s first time walking—a toddler, almost alone, she’d gripped her sweater, right hand clutched chest-high, reassured then, she held on to herself so, so took a few quick steps— oh, he said, you know what?