Poetry is like confetti in a strong wind. Much of its substance is dispelled as soon as it passes by our senses. The sad reality is that it often leaves much to be desired and even less to hold and cherish. The breaths of anticipation are the wishes and needs that stem from discovering a book, which may answer those deeply held frustrations for which there have been no optionsand often no solutions either. This book does not claim to provide any of the truths, which we all avidly seek, but only to impart some comfort in their reading that will alleviate those needs in other ways. Opened at any page at any time, a vista of change will reveal itself to you that will, at the very least, grant you a new level of awareness of the promises that good poetry can bring to you. Simple peace of mind and pleasure can be yours, and what more can you ask of life?
About the Author: I am merely a glimmer in this maelstrom of existence. I lived a life of choices which were imposed on me but which were not mine to make. I lacked the benefits of parenthood, growing instead in an altogether more regulated regime of rigid stability. Love of language and Shakespeare has always existed; certainly for as long as I can remember and I never minded being described as a voracious reader. Many were the occasions when I would plead with the teacher to persue some aspect of a particular english lesson to the chagrin of my classmates. For many years I have dabbled in the arts as well as in poetry more with the reading than with the writing and this collection is simply an amalgam of random expressions which were the result of life events stimulated by emotional reactions and responses: Then I would put pen to paper. They include some sonnets and many free verse poems which I have a particular liking for. I have always felt the need to involve the vast majority of society in my stories even if they are not even aware that any difficulties exist. It was perhaps fortunate that I lacked the benefits of a normal family upbringing: It did mean that the path which I chose through my life was divined more by my sad instincts for survival at the time as well as the rigorous directions which popular media insisted that I should follow. Living with nuns would have been more of an eye opener if I had had a yardstick to judge them by: As it was, they were my life and my controllers throughout my childhood until I was released without preparation or warning into a world full of painful contradictions. I never understood the confusion of unexpected rejections and unkindnesses with which I had to deal. Cest le vie!