Let Your Best Be For

Thinking Is Always The Stumbling Stone To Poetry.

There Must Be Something Strangely Sacred About Salt. It Is In Our Tears And In The Sea.

You Are Good When You Are One With Yourself. Yet When You Are Not One With Yourself You Are Not Evil. For A Divided House Is Not A Den Of Thieves; It Is Only A Divided House. And A Ship Without Rudder May Wander Aimlessly Among Perilous Isles Yet Sink Not To The Bottom.

I Am Forever Walking Upon These Shores, Betwixt The Sand And The Foam, The High Tide Will Erase My Food Prnts, And The Wind Will Blow Away The Foam, But The Sea And The Shore Will Remain Forver

And Then To Sleep With A Prayer For The Beloved In Your Heart And A Song Of Praise Upon Your Lips.