To Be Alive──is Power.

We Both Believe, And Disbelieve A Hundred Times An Hour, Which Keeps Believing Nimble.

I Dwell In Possibilities .

I'll Tell You How The Sun Rose, A Ribbon At A Time. The Steeples Swam In Amethyst, The News Like Squirrels Ran. The Hills Untied Their Bonnets, The Bobolinks Begun. Then I Said Softly To Myself, "that Must Have Been The Sun!

Mirth Is The Mail Of Anguish --

Answer July- Where Is The Bee- Where Is The Blush- Where Is The Hay? Ah, Said July- Where Is The Seed- Where Is The Bud- Where Is The May- Answer Thee-me-