I Doubt If You Can Have A

Poetry Is The Harnessing Of The Paradox Of Earth Cradling Life And Then Entombing It.

Not Often In The Story Of Mankind Does A Man Arrive On Earth Who Is Both Steel And Velvet, Who Is As Hard As Rock And Soft As Drifting Fog, Who Holds In His Heart And Mind The Paradox Of Terrible Storm And Peace Unspeakable And Perfect.

I Cried Over Beautiful Things, Knowing No Beautiful Thing Lasts.

I See America, Not In The Setting Sun Of A Black Night Of Despair Ahead Of Us, I See America In The Crimson Light Of A Rising Sun Fresh From The Burning, Creative Hand Of God. I See Great Days Ahead, Great Days Possible To Men And Women Of Will And Vision.

There Is A Warning Love Sends And The Cost Of It Is Never Written Till Long Afterward.