There Was a Little Girl There was a little girl, Who had a little curl, Right in the middle of her forehead. When she was good, She was very good indeed, But when she was bad she was horrid.
Owen's Bracelt Our senses, without reason, are naught worth; Nor reason, unless faith do set it forth: Neither is faith…
There is an eagle in me that wants to soar, and there is a hippopotamus in me that wants to…
Even when poetry has a meaning, as it usually has, it may be inadvisable to draw it out ... and…