A poem of life as it should be – or so I thought in 1981.

A poem I wrote in my head when I probably should have been listening in class. I’ll be honest, I’m rather proud of this one.

A mini-compilation of haikus!!

Life’s troubles can be unbearable but there are little ones about which we may complain, particularly when they appear and soon disappear. Now and then, we tend to become overly-anxious and worry too much, when such troubles are considered to be trifling.

I just can’t get enough.

A wittering poem, or something like that.

The power of words is tremendous. Words are the tools with which a poet weaves the fabric of his inspiration before he designs his or her tapestry of creativity. A writer in general must use words in the right context in order to convey his thoughts, both real and imagined.

Love is immortal.

Life is measured by time. Nothing that we do escapes it. It is an element that shows no partiality nor favor; it does not discriminate nor singularize those that command or obey.

This is a poem to go with my novel The sublime, as a boy searches for this little cherub that he sees as the sublime, and the novel is his journey and adventures to Mount Thor where he belives the sublime to be. This novel and poem was inspired by Casper friedrichs The wanderer.