PREFACE

Oh aged soul don’t go to poppy juice or hashish’s soft fumes do not go to soma or anti-depressants dark gloom look look in the meadowlands and orchards sweet scented perfumes and feast thy eyes upon young flowers just new and fruit ripe for plucking drink not of Wolf’s-bane or hemlocks witchery but drink the beauteousness of flowery forms and taste with slavering lips the fruits soft pulpy core and fromst these fountains of youth burst into new life that
Withered hand withered leaf presst to petals like rosy cheeks