What’s here wouldn’t be had my good friend Joe not for years encouraged (pushed) me to get it thus public. Thank you, Joe.
I’ve always tried to write what I’ve had to as well as I could. The poems here were mostly written of necessity, sometimes of occasion, and are representative.
Thackeray ends his great novel with the words “Vanitas vanitatum.” But no salesman, which I’ve long been, can subscribe to Ecclesiastes during the week, though vanity’s killed many a sale.
Still, there’s Sunday—the longer view suits the day, and the nights after. Today is Sunday.
So, what follows is for my girls, Alice, Mary and Terri, for others who’ve been appreciative of it, and for the record.
I hope what’s so far here rewards your reading; thank you for visiting.
