What Is There To Do When People

Innocence Is Not Pure So Much As Pleased, Always Expectant, Bright-eyed, Self-enclosed

A House That Does Not Have One Warm, Comfy Chair In It Is Soulless.

A Body Without Bones Would Be A Limp Impossible Mess, So A Day Without Steady Routine Would Be Disruptive And Chaotic.

I Feel Often Very Close To The Ecstasy And Anguish Which Lie At The Very Heart Of Poetry - I Am Writing A Lot.

One Of The Springs Of Poetry Is Joy.