If The Writer Does Not

The Test Is Always How We Treat The Poor.

Nature's First Green Is Gold, Her Hardest Hue To Hold. Her Early Leaf's A Flower; But Only So An Hour. Then Leaf Subsides To Leaf. So Eden Sank To Grief, So Dawn Goes Down To Day. Nothing Gold Can Stay.

Writing A Poem Is Discovering.

Nature's First Green Is Gold.

I've Given Offense By Saying I'd As Soon Write Free Verse As Play Tennis With The Net Down.