Forever Is Composed Of Nows.

Those Who Have Not Found The Heaven Below, Will Fail Of It Above.

Angels In The Early Morning May Be Seen The Dews Among. Stooping, Plucking, Smiling, Flying. Do The Buds To Them Belong?

I Had No Monarch In My Life, And Cannot Rule Myself; And When I Try To Organize, My Little Force Explodes And Leaves Me Bare And Charred.

I Argue Thee That Love Is Life. And Life Hath Immortality.

If I Feel Physically As If The Top Of My Head Were Taken Off, I Know That Is Poetry.