"THE SWEETEST FLOWER THAT BLOWS, I GIVE YOU AS WE PART... FOR YOU IT IS A ROSE. FOR ME IT IS MY HEART." ~Frederick Peterson~ SOMEWHERE I HAVE NEVER TRAVELLED, GLADLY BEYOND somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond any experience, your eyes have their silence: in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me, or which i cannot touch because they are too near your slightest look easily will unclose me though i have closed myself as fingers, you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens (touching skilfully, misteriously) her first rose or if your wish be to close me, i and my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly, as when the heart of this flower imagines the snow carefully everywhere descending; nothing we are to perceive in this world equals the power of your intense fragility: whose texture compels me with the colour of its countries, rendering death and forever with each breathing (i do not know what it is about you that closes and opens; only something in me understands the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses) nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands E.E. Cummings INDEX OF PAGES PASSION & ROMANCE HOPE & INSPIRATION LAND OF DREAMS LOSS OF A LOVED ONE THROUGH THE EYES OF A CHILD THE BEAUTY OF A WOMAN MISCELLANEOUS        March 25, 2006