Best Poem of G. Newton V. Chance

My Love, There Is No Winter
My love, there is no winter,
in the suburbs of my heart;
the house wrens never leave
for warmer ground.

No snow-capped mountain peaks
to loom and freeze your climb;
at the apex of this heart,
nothing but tropic heat,
wild and tropic heart-heat
of a wildly throbbing . . .
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Unknown Ocean
Coconut stems, some diagonal, stand
Stark ‘gainst shifting gray and white of blue sky,
Hurt feelings, shaped and misshapen by wind
With rain, harsh sun and storm, nature's every

Twisted caprice, as though crafted by the
Well trained but heartless hands of a bonsai
Master gone mad with narcissistic p . . .
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