And Love is the deepest feeling,
At which, Poetry can arrive.
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Without reading and writing,
No Culture, no Art,And no History.
Poets share
Like busy beesThey make honeyOut of words,SometimesBut never money.Just as well!A poet’s thoughts,Cannot be boughtNor would theyEver have a productThat even,Shopping foolsWould buy for money.
I am a slow thinker,
A sluggish performerAnd a smoldering burner,But when it comes to,Poetry and Art,There I’m always ready to take part,In the best endeavorsOf the Human Heart.
Crying shows that we have feelings,
That we’re really human beings,That should walk close, hand in hand.Crying sooths the ailing heart,Keeps you from falling apart.
The Truth lies suspended
He who lies the best,Is who the Public follows.
To love and to be loved,
To have or to be had,As Life’s greatest emotion.