There are many morning roads to happiness-
I walk down one of them now-
The sun brightens the flowerbed below
Scarlets and violets, yellows and blues.
...
Is there any greater happiness
than seeing one’s own child happy
...
I read unremembered poets-
Names little and less known -
...
The real poetry always waits to be written-
While we are laboring inside
...
I don’t want the poems to end
I don’t want to stop hearing my soul say
...
How much longer will God give me?
How much more time to do the one thing
That makes me feel most alive?
...
WHOSE WOODS THESE ARE ONLY GOD KNOWS
Whose woods these are only God knows
...
No poem can say all we are inside
There is so much given to our eyes
...
What the reader needs is words
So Beautiful
And so Surprising
That they bring Joy and Mystery
A sense of Freshness in all things.
...
The Poem was not there
I was not there -
...