Thinking Is Not To Agree Or Disagree.

For, Dear Me, Why Abandon A Belief, Merely Because It Ceases To Be True, Cling To It Long Enough, And Not A Doubt, It Will Turn True Again, For So It Goes.

The Footpath Down To The Well Is Healed.

I Have Been One Acquainted With The Night. I Have Walked Out In Rain - And Back In Rain. I Have Out Walked The Furthest City Light. I Have Looked Down The Saddest City Lane. I Have Passed By The Watchman On His Beat And Dropped My Eyes, Unwilling To Explain. I Have Stood Still And Stopped The Sound Of Feet. When Far Away An Interrupted Cry Came Over Houses From Another Street, But Not To Call Me Back Or Say Good-bye; And Further Still At An Unearthly Light, One Luminary Clock Against The Sky Proclaimed The Time Was Neither Wrong Nor Right. I Have Been One Acquainted With The Night.

A Poet Must Never Make A Statement Simply Because It Sounds Poetically Exciting; He Must Also Believe It To Be True." - W. H. Auden "a Poem...begins As A Lump In The Throat, A Sense Of Wrong, A Homesickness, A Lovesickness...it Finds The Thought And The Thought Finds The Words.

O Hushed October Morning Mild, Begin The Hours Of This Day Slow, Make The Day Seem To Us Less Brief... Retard The Sun With Gentle Mist; Enchant The Land With Amethyst.