After a full belly, all is poetry.
I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.
Of all flowers, Methinks a rose is best.
If the ocean can calm itself, so can you. We are both salt water mixed with air.
Deep in their roots, all flowers keep the light.
Much of poetry is an anguished waiting.
What's madness but nobility of soul at odds with circumstance?
There is a pleasure in poetic pains which only poets know.