I wander in search of a time after time, Refusing to fall from this dangerous climb Into a thick space of deep complexity -- The towers unfold in a city where we Have a place with our spirit. Well, what

I stand, stare at the Cantor dust of stars, Stand alone in the open field of grass That glows in the silver of the moon brass And dark emerald under a rising Mars. I wage a silent war within my mind As

My true concern is for your health In asking you to share my bed – I only wish to share the wealth Of benefits that have been wed By all the doctors of the day To the one thing you’ve kept at bay. Why

In France was an atheist, superb At finding new ways to disturb – A communist brand, A Nazi’s friend, and Philosophy based on a linking verb.

My Muses are the offspring of my memory And God. The Greeks were right. I sing my memory. Can poets then be ignorant? Can poets fail to love? The poets sing the songs of God from memory. And thus I must

When the sun dapples through the trees’ leaves And the world becomes a familiar stranger In the wild and growing tapestry it weaves, We’ll be in danger Of finding flowers in reds and indigos Sprouting

ALMOST ITHACAD A Play in One Act by Troy Camplin Cast of Characters Penelope: Queen of Ithaca, wife of Odysseus Odysseus: King of Ithaca Telemachus: Prince of Ithaca, son of Odysseus and Penelope Helen: