“I have lain awake in the darkness many nightsThinking of poems, going to sleep on poems,Finally,with the darkness closing onThe bright remembered words. I have thought of the darknessClosing on the world, the words of the poems forgotten,All the great beautiful words of the poemsFading from the mind of the world, let goSlowly, unknowingly, as from the mindOf one diseased the light of man's endeavorFades to the idiot darkness and is lost.Part of the darkness, I have lain awakeWatching the poems of the world fade out like stars.”

“Every poet will forever try to write the greatest poem ever written, I have found that this kind of poem can be written with “One” word. And that word consists of a beauty beyond any measure to man and one of the most beauty creations to grace the presents of man. That one word poem is…….. “YOU”

“Yes, I read. I have that absurd habit. I like beautiful poems, moving poetry, and all the beyond of that poetry. I am extraordinarily sensitive to those poor, marvelous words left in our dark night by a few men I never knew.”

“...have I told you? - your eyes are a dark poem of dancing snow at midnight ...”

“There is an Anglo-Saxon form of riddling that plays with the polarities of words like bright and dark, cold and warm, throwing them against one another and crafting lines of rich, humorous nonsense like this poem that has been around for so many hundreds of years that you just have to sit back and, with nothing else in mind, laugh out loud. ”

“No one wants to read poetry. You have to make it impossible for them to put the poem down--impossible for them to stop reading it, word after word. You have to keep them from closing the book.”