S UMMER GREETINGS , Friends! Here in the left foot of England there is gold dust on the warm air, and the verges hum in the delight of sunsh...

T HESE TINY SAXIFRAGES are my small windowbox garden, planted not long ago, and reaching towards the light that tips on these bright morning...

T HIS BLUE PENCIL that has been sharpened regularly during my hard working spring, sprung once from the branches of a tree, as I was remind...

Little soul in a grey chest You died in my hand Once you sang for spring And flew on those dun wings under the sun Today you trembled at t...