And I rose In rainy autumn And walked abroad in a shower of all my days.

Go on thinking that you don't need to be read and you'll find that it may become quite true: no one will feel the need tom read it because it is written for yourself alone; and the public won't feel any impulse to gate crash such a private party.

Dark is a way and light is a place, Heaven that never was Nor will be ever is always true "Poem on His Birthday

Poetry is not the most important thing in life... I'd much rather lie in a hot bath reading Agatha Christie and sucking sweets.

He who seeks rest finds boredom. He who seeks work finds rest.

And time cast forth my mortal creature To drift or drown upon the seas Acquainted with the salt adventure Of tides that never touch the shores. - I who was rich was made the richer By sipping at the the vine of days.

[I'm]a freak user of words, not a poet.