Poetry is perfect verbs hunting for elusive nouns.
Poetry is the tunnel at the end of the light.
A great book is a homing device For navigating paradise. A good book somehow makes you care About the comfort of a chair. A bad book owes to many trees A forest of apologies.
Poetry is frosted fire.
I won't be sad too often, If they bury me in the library With bookworms in my coffin.
Poetry is prose, bent out of shape.
Please bury me in the library With a dozen long-stemmed proses
I have always believed that poems beg to be read aloud, even if the reader is in a world all her own.
Spotted Park Bench
I am a park bench.
Ordinary words cannot
express my thoughts on birds.
A bad book owes to many trees | A forest of apologies.
The Ladybug wears no disguises. She is just what she advertises. A speckled spectacle of spring, A fashion statement on the wing.... A miniature orange kite. A tiny dot-to-dot delight.
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