Education Is Hanging Around Until

The Figure A Poem Makes. It Begins In Delight And Ends In Wisdom.

Poetry Is Play. I'd Even Rather Have You Think Of It As A Sport. For Instance, Like Football.

Come Grow Old With Me, For The Best Is Yet To Come!

Nature's Never Quite Sure She Hasn't Erred In Her Vague Design.

Gathering Leaves Spades Take Up Leaves No Better Than Spoons, And Bags Full Of Leaves Are Light As Balloons. I Make A Great Noise Of Rustling All Day Like Rabbit And Deer Running Away. But The Mountains I Raise Elude My Embrace, Flowing Over My Arms And Into My Face. I May Load And Unload Again And Again Till I Fill The Whole Shed, And What Have I Then? Next To Nothing For Weight, And Since They Grew Duller From Contact With Earth, Next To Nothing For Color. Next To Nothing For Use. But A Crop Is A Crop, And Who's To Say Where The Harvest Shall Stop?