Nobody Loses All The Time.

O Sweet Spontaneous Earth How Often Has The Naughty Thumb Of Science Prodded Thy Beauty Thou Answereth Them Only With Spring.

The Voice Of Your Eyes Is Deeper Than All Roses

What If A Much Of A Which Of A Wind Gives The Truth To Summer's Lie; Bloodies With Dizzying Leaves The Sun And Yanks Immortal Stars Awry?

It May Take Two People To Make A Really Beautiful Mistake.

Somewhere I Have Never Travelled, Gladly Beyond