The Light Would Show (if It Could

Picasso Was A Delightful, Kindly, Friendly, Simple Little Man. When I Met Him He Was Extremely Excited And Overjoyed That His Mother-in-law Had Just Died, And He Was Looking Forward To The Funeral.

Hot Water Is My Native Element. I Was In It As A Baby, And I Have Never Seemed To Get Out Of It Ever Since.

All Great Poetry Is Dipped In The Dyes Of The Heart.

Tall Windows Show Infinity; And, Hard Reality, The Candles Weep And Pry And Dance Like Lives Mocked At By Chance. The Rooms Are Vast As Sleep Within; When Once I Ventured In, Chill Silence, Like A Surging Sea, Slowly Enveloped Me.

My Poems Are Hymns Of Praise To The Glory Of Life.