A Poem Begins With A Lump In

I Never Dared To Be Radical When Young For Fear It Would Make Me Conservative When Old.

The First Thing I Do In The Morning Is To Make My Bed And While I Am Making Up My Bed I Am Making Up My Mind As To What Kind Of A Day I Am Going To Have.

When I Was Young My Teachers Were The Old. I Gave Up Fire For Form Till I Was Cold.

For Hard It Is To Keep From Being King When It's In You And In The Situation.

The Tree The Tempest With A Crash Of Wood Throws Down In Front Of Us Is Not To Bar Our Passage To Our Journey's End For Good, But Just To Ask Us Who We Think We Are.