R. K. Hart Biography

Children are the gentle breezes for which parents plea.
They come they play around us then they flee.
We would hold them to our breast,
Protecting against all of life's dreadful tests.
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Lovers float gently past Lilly pads flowering,
Swans pass in pairs long necks caressing.
Stealing behind her parasol for a kiss are sweet hearts,
A couple share a basket of small sandwiches and sweet tarts.
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Why do you only see me when I cry,
And not when my eyes are dry.
Only when my happy heart is broken,
And not when happiness has spoken.
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He can open the petal of the dark red rose.
And bring it's sweet scent to my nose.
He can teach a spider to spin its intricate web.
And grow a glorious flower in its dark soiled bed.
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I spoke to the stream about the soft blue of your eyes,
After many a try to copy she failed and cried.
I told the harvest about the colour of your golden hair,
It tried to mimic a beauty beyond compare.
...