Certain Springs Are Tapped Only When We

When I Cannot Write A Poem, I Bake Biscuits And Feel Just As Pleased.

My Life Cannot Implement In Action The Demands Of All The People To Whom My Heart Responds.

We Walk Up The Beach Under The Stars. And When We Are Tired Of Walking, We Lie Flat On The Sand Under A Bowl Of Stars. We Feel Stretched, Expanded To Take In Their Compass. They Pour Into Us Until We Are Filled With Stars, Up To The Brim.

My Father Taught Me That A Bill Is Like A Crying Baby And Has To Be Attended To At Once.

When The Wedding March Sounds The Resolute Approach, The Clock No Longer Ticks, It Tolls The Hour. The Figures In The Aisle Are No Longer Individuals, They Symbolize The Human Race.