The eye follows, the land
Slips upward, creases down, forms
The gentle buttocks of a young
Giant. - - - The pen in her hand draws true portraits not only of the land, not only of the cities, but of the hearts and souls of man. You find verses like this sparkling everywhere in her poems
Enjoyed this elegant write. Takes me back to
days of old. Old landmarks of hills, mountains,
valleys, etc. has all of the markings of things past.
They can't be erased by the hands of time. An