Where My Books Go

209

All the words that I utter, And all the words that I write,

Must spread out their wings untiring,

And never rest in their flight,

Till they come where your sad, sad heart is,

And sing to you in the night,

Beyond where the waters are moving,

Storm-darkened or starry bright.

~ W. B. Yeats

On Bed Days

491

When all your plans go up in smoke, The pain’s too much and it’s almost a joke, You try to sleep but dreams are invaded, By twinges, pangs, aches, and dedicated…

Sunflowers

423

All flowers are happy in their way,
But dear Helianthus you win the day.
Every aspect of your nature is sunny.
Even your face tracks its eponym across the sky.

As Necessary As Bread

236

Poetry is a life-cherishing force. For poems are not words, after all, but fires for the cold, ropes let down to the lost, something as necessary as bread in the pockets of the hungry. ~ Mary Oliver

Listen To Poets

In the very end, civilizations perish because they listen to their politicians and not to their poets. ~ Jonas Mekas