Hope Hills Poems

What's in the Age?
Old, Young - Eternal
Number - 'On-Call'
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Knock, Knock...
Who's there?
I AM
I am who?
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Scenic Route
A speck of
Sand in Zygote's
Hand
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Oh, Happy, Happy Day
It's Your Birthday
At least that is what
The paper says
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I dearly love thee
So glad you sent to me
Happily, I beckon to thee
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She's a whimsical
Prolifically abstract poet
And she didn't even
Know it
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I'm here for you
And you are here
For me
Some fresh utile
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The thought of it,
Such a thought
Are you the thought?
Am I the thought?
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Why does your vice
Drive you to wince
And concave so?
Are you not able to
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Club sandwhich, mayo please
Is that for here or to go?
Both it seems so
Studying, eh?
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