When I was 8, my grandparents gave me for Christmas, A Child's Garden of Verses, my first poetry book. I adored it and still have it on my bookshelf. I remember that when I read it, it seemed dreamlike and peaceful... I had a happy feeling. How odd, I think, looking back on it, that a child so young would like poetry? Later on in childhood I read Shel Silverstein's popular poetry books but they were much more, hit-you-over-the-head with silliness, while this book was more intelligent and wry. For example, The Whole Duty of Children, : A child should always say what's true, And speak when he is spoken to, And behave mannerly at the table, At least as far as he is able, which is accompanied by a drawing of a child asleep sitting before his half-eaten meal with his head on the table.
Despair - What is despair?
After lots of ups and downs – first you deny, then you realize, finally... you have to believe
What wins? is … the one who departs first
Who loses? is … the one who loves more and insists not to go
What if …?
Everything is just a game and tact?
When I was a very young boy in school I was given a book of poetry written by Robert Louis Stevenson...one of his poems has stuck with me all these years, 'The Land of Counterpane.' When I was ill and bed fast I would play with my toys among the bed-clothes. I guess most every young person has experienced this....
"Chief of our aunts"--not only I, But all your dozen of nurselings cry-- "What did the other children do? And what were childhood, wanting you?"