Deprivation Is For Me What Daffodils Were

To Write You Must Be Warm, Fed, Loved And Sober.

Heads In The Women's Ward On Pillow After Pillow Lies The Wild White Hair And Staring Eyes; Jaws Stand Open; Necks Are Stretched With Every Tendon Sharply Sketched; A Bearded Mouth Talks Silently To Someone No One Else Can See. Sixty Years Ago They Smiled At Lover, Husband, First-born Child. Smiles Are For Youth. For Old Age Come Death's Terror And Delirium.

Still, Vicious Or Virtuous, Love Suits Most Of Us.

No One Can Tear Your Thread Out Of Himself. No One Can Tie You Down Or Set You Free.

Death: The Anaesthetic From Which None Come Round.