Truth Is So Rare That It Is

Victory Comes Late-- And Is Held Low To Freezing Lips-- Too Rapt With Frost To Take It

An Altered Look About The Hills; A Tyrian Light The Village Fills; A Wider Sunrise In The Dawn; A Deeper Twilight On The Lawn; A Print Of A Vermilion Foot; A Purple Finger On The Slope; A Flippant Fly Upon The Pane; A Spider At His Trade Again; An Added Strut In Chanticleer; A Flower Expected Everywhere.

One Step At A Time Is All It Takes To Get You There.

I Am Nobody! Who Are You? Are You A Nobody, Too?

The Possible's Slow Fuse Is Lit By The Imagination.