A Poem Begins In Delight And Ends

If The Writer Does Not Cry, The Reader Does Not Cry.

What An Exciting Age It Is We Live In With All This Talk About The Hope Of Youth And Nothing Made Of Youth.

Keep All Ur Troubles In Ur Own Pocket. But, Make Sure That The Pocket Has A Hole!

Nature's Never Quite Sure She Hasn't Erred In Her Vague Design.

The Vermont Mountains Stretch Extended Straight; New Hampshire Mountains Curl Up In A Coil.