But The More Poetry One

Every Time One Leaves Anywhere, Something Precious, Which Ought Not To Be Killed, Is Left To Die.

I Love The Night. I Love To Feel The Tide Of Darkness Rising, Slowly And Slowly Washing, Turning Over And Over, Lifting, Floating, All That Lies Strewn Upon The Dark Beach, All That Lies Hid In Rocky Hollows.

Winter Is A Terrible Time For Thin People - Terrible! Why Should It Hound Them Down, Fasten On Them, Worry Them So? Why Not, For A Change, Take A Nip, Take A Snap At The Fat Ones Who Wouldn't Notice? But No! It Is Sleek, Warm, Cat-like Summer That Makes The Fat One's Life A Misery. Winter Is All For Bones.

As In The Physical World, So In The Spiritual World, Pain Does Not Last Forever.

Oh, How Quickly Things Changed! Why Didn't Happiness Last For Ever? For Ever Wasn't A Bit Too Long.