God's unique capacity is too surprising to surprise.
PHOSPHORESCENCE. Now there's a word to lift your hat to... to find that phosphorescence, that light within, that's the genius behind poetry.
Nature is a haunted house--but Art--is a house that tries to be haunted.
Vinnie rocks her Garden and moans that God won't help her. I suppose he is too busy getting angry with the Wicked every day.
A great hope fell You heard no noise The ruin was within.
Judge tenderly of me.