...that icy glass reduces your beauty - dims your fire - let me be your mirror...

“... this longing inside me that never goes away, must be a poem...must be you .…”

“...all winter the acorns and red Maple leaf moldered in silence - in the same w…”

“...The book of the hours - Tres Riche Heures - what did it matter when I had yo…”

“...what is art to the dilettante but the initiation of the sacred few to the ex…”