Someone Loves Us All.

And As To Experience-well, Think How Little Some Good Poets Have Had, Or How Much Some Bad Ones Have.

Being A Poet Is One Of The Unhealthier Jobs--no Regular Hours, So Many Temptations!

All My Life I Have Lived And Behaved Very Much Like The Sandpiper - Just Running Down The Edges Of Different Countries And Continents, 'looking For Something'.

All The Untidyactivity Continues, Awful But Cheerful.

Lose Something Every Day. Accept The Fluster Of Lost Door Keys, The Hour Badly Spent. The Art Of Losing Isn't Hard To Master.