Immortal Is An Ample Word

By Chivalries As Tiny, A Blossom, Or A Book, The Seeds Of Smiles Are Planted- Which Blossom In The Dark.

Phosphorescence. Now There's A Word To Lift Your Hat To... To Find That Phosphorescence, That Light Within, That's The Genius Behind Poetry.

His Labor Is A Chant - His Idleness -a Tune - Oh, For A Bee's Experience Of Clovers, And Of Noon!

Longing Is Like A Seed That Wrestles In The Ground

The Soul Should Always Stand Ajar, That If The Heaven Inquire, He Will Not Be Obliged To Wait, Or Shy Of Troubling Her. Depart, Before The Host Has Slid The Bolt Upon The Door, To Seek For The Accomplished Guest, -- Her Visitor No More.