If I Had The Knack I'd Sing

All My Friends / Viewing The Moon – / An Ugly Bunch.

Why So Scrawny, Cat? Starving For Fat Fish Or Mice... Or Backyard Love?

Twilight Whippoorwill... Whistle On, Sweet Deepener Of Dark Loneliness

Real Poetry, Is To Lead A Beautiful Life. To Live Poetry Is Better Than To Write It.

Spring Rain Conveyed Under The Trees In Drops.