Nor Dim Nor Red, Like God's Own

Talk Of The Devil, And His Horns Appear.

'tis A Month Before The Month Of May, And The Spring Comes Slowly Up This Way.

That Willing Suspension Of Disbelief For The Moment, Which Constitutes Poetic Faith.

The Happiness Of Life Is Made Up Of Minute Fractions - The Little, Soon Forgotten Charities Of A Kiss Or A Smile, A Kind Look Or Heartfelt Compliment.

And In Today Already Walks Tomorrow.