Gods Always Love The People Who Make

She Was Stretched On Her Back Beneath The Pear Tree Soaking In The Alto Chant Of The Visiting Bees, The Gold Of The Sun And The Panting Breath Of The Breeze When The Inaudible Voice Of It All Came To Her. She Saw A Dust-bearing Bee Sink Into The Sanctum Of A Bloom; The Thousand Sister-calyxes Arch To Meet The Love Embrace And The Ecstatic Shiver Of The Tree From Root To Tiniest Branch Creaming In Every Blossom And Frothing With Delight.

Research Is Formalized Curiosity. It Is Poking And Prying With A Purpose.

Night Came Walking Through Egypt Swishing Her Black Dress.

I Am Not Tragically Colored. There Is No Great Sorrow Dammed Up In My Soul, Nor Lurking Behind My Eyes. I Do Not Mind At All.

Love, I Find, Is Like Singing. Everybody Can Do Enough To Satisfy Themselves, Though It May Not Impress The Neighbors As Being Very Much.