Books -where if people suffered, they suffered in beautiful language, not in monosyllables, as we did in Kansas

Hold fast to dreams, for if dreams die, life is a broken-winged bird that cannot fly.

Wear it Like a banner For the proud? Not like a shroud.

Gather out of star-dust, Earth-dust, Cloud-dust, Storm-dust, And splinters of hail, One handful of dream-dust, Not for sale.

Believing everything she read In the daily news, (No in-between to choose) She thought that only One side won, Not that BOTH Might lose.

Politics in any country in the world is dangerous. For the poet, politics in any country had better be disguised as poetry. Politics can be the graveyard of the poet. And only poetry can be his resurrection.

The calm, Cool face of the river, Asked me for a kiss