Butterflies...flowers that fly and all but sing.
What makes a nation in the beginning is a good piece of geography.
I dwell in a lonely house I know That vanished many a summer ago.
Poetry is a reaching out forward expression, an effort to find fulfillment
Earth's the right place for love. I don't know where it's likely to go better.
Nature is always hinting at us. It hints over and over again. And suddenly we take the hint.