A bad book owes to many trees | A forest of apologies.
Poetry is perfect verbs hunting for elusive nouns.
I have always believed that poems beg to be read aloud, even if the reader is in a world all her own.
Poetry is prose, bent out of shape.
A great book is a homing device For navigating paradise. A good book somehow makes you care About the comfort of a chair. A bad book owes to many trees A forest of apologies.
Poetry is frosted fire.