Happiness,
Can never be compressed,
And felt on it's own,
Once and forever,
But rings the bell,
Quite often,
Once in a while,
In small packets of joy,
That do come by,
If one lifts the sunshades,
To see the rays of light.
Questions, unquestioned discoveries, and answers in parable and rhyme…. This collection records a journey starting with a 1960s retrospective and the first man on the moon, moving to a new millennium welcomed in with a terrorist spin, family crises,
Robin Ouzman Hislop's poetry is certainly in dialogue with some of the key architects of the 'poetics of indeterminacy' – both the Modernist strands represented by the likes of Beckett and Stein, and the postmodernist strands represented, initially,
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Sandie May Angel :o)