I Love Giving Flowers. It Is So

For To Be Desperate Is To Discover Strength. / We Die Of Comfort And By Conflict Live.

Excellence Costs A Great Deal.

I Write Poems, Have Always Written Them, To Transcend The Painfully Personal And Reach The Universal.

What Is There To Do When People Die - People So Dear And Rare - But Bring Them Back By Remembering?

Am I Too Old, Perhaps, Ever To Take In Another's Life To Share With Mine On A Permanent Basis? If So, I Must Make Do With What I Have... And What I Have Is A Great Richness Of Friends And A Positively Ardent Love Of Nature. Not Nothing!