Always continue to climb.

All roads that lead to God are good.

A day which passed without a poem from my pen I considered lost and misused.

Just a little every day That's the way Children learn to read and write Bit by bit and mite by mite.

And let its meaning permeate each day. Whatever comes, This too shall pass away.

While forced to dwell apart from thy dear face, Love, robed like sorrow, led me by the hand And taught my doubting heart to understand That which has puzzled all the human race.

Talk not of the river or lake To those who have looked on the sea.