For Dear Me, Why Abandon A Belief

Good Fences Make Good Neighbors.

My Sorrow, When She's Here With Me, Thinks These Dark Days Of Autumn Rain Are Beautiful As Days Can Be; She Loves The Bare, The Withered Tree; She Walks The Sodden Pasture Lane.

I Never Dared To Be Radical When Young For Fear It Would Make Me Conservative When Old.

The Woods Are Lovely, Dark, And Deep But I Have Promises To Keep...

Poetry Should Be Common In Experience But Uncommon In Books.