To His Glory

Red’s pipes thrust, vibrate,
And pierce earth’s garrulous air,
Adoring the Lord


Life Imitates Art

Honeyed Muse swaggers,

Eyes crave greatest wish,

It leads, we follow….





“For if you grant admission to the Honeyed Muse in lyric or epic, pleasure and pain will be the lords of your city instead of law Plato (Republic 607  a).