I Love The Rain. I Want The

Winter Is A Terrible Time For Thin People - Terrible! Why Should It Hound Them Down, Fasten On Them, Worry Them So? Why Not, For A Change, Take A Nip, Take A Snap At The Fat Ones Who Wouldn't Notice? But No! It Is Sleek, Warm, Cat-like Summer That Makes The Fat One's Life A Misery. Winter Is All For Bones.

The Late Evening Is The Time Of Times. Then With That Unearthly Beauty Before One It Is Not Hard To Realise How Far One Has To Go. To Write Something That Will Be Worthy Of That Rising Moon, That Pale Light.

September Is Different From All Other Months. It Is More Magical. I Feel The Strange Chemical Change In The Earth Which Produces Mushrooms Is The Cause, Too, Of The Extra 'life' In The Air - A Resilience, A Sparkle.

My Love For You Tonight Is So Deep And Tender That It Seems To Be Outside Myself As Well.

The Fields Are Snowbound No Longer; There Are Little Blue Lakes And Flags Of Tenderest Green. The Snow Has Been Caught Up Into The Sky- So Many White Clouds-and The Blue Of The Sky Is Cold. Now The Sun Walks In The Forest, He Touches The Bows And Stems With His Golden Fingers; They Shiver, And Wake From Slumber. Over The Barren Branches He Shakes His Yellow Curls. Yet Is The Forest Full Of The Sound Of Tears.... A Wind Dances Over The Fields. Shrill And Clear The Sound Of Her Waking Laughter, Yet The Little Blue Lakes Tremble And The Flags Of Tenderest Green Bend And Quiver.