Love Is A Naked Shadow, On A

When Poems Stop Talking About The Moon And Begin To Mention Poverty, Trade Unions, Color, Color Lines And Colonies, Somebody Tells The Police.

Summer Was Made To Give You A Taste Of What Hell Is Like. Winter Was Made For Landladies To Charge High Rents And Keep Cold Radiators And Make A Fortune Off Of Poor Tenants.

You And I By Henry Alford My Hand Is Lonely For Your Clasping, Dear; My Ear Is Tired Waiting For Your Call. I Want Your Strength To Help, Your Laugh To Cheer; Heart, Soul And Senses Need You, One And All. I Droop Without Your Full, Frank Sympathy; We Ought To Be Together—you And I; We Want Each Other So, To Comprehend The Dream, The Hope, Things Planned, Or Seen, Or Wrought. Companion, Comforter And Guide And Friend, As Much As Love Asks Love, Does Thought Ask Thought. Life Is So Short, So Fast The Lone Hours Fly, We Ought To Be Together, You And I.

Let The Rain Kiss You. Let The Rain Beat Upon Your Head With Silver Liquid Drops. Let The Rain Sing You A Lullaby. The Rain Makes Still Pools On The Sidewalk. The Rain Makes Running Pools In The Gutter. The Rain Plays A Little Sellp-song On Our Roof At Night- And I Love The Rain.

Life Is For The Living. Death Is For The Dead. Let Life Be Like Music. And Death A Note Unsaid.