What is most important for a book is that it should be fun to read; why else partake of any reality other than the self, if not for fun? This book is designed to be, an excellence, of the happiness and glow that beings have, when they can read, a superb book. Even this book has several poems that could be considered to be approaching the status of "classic" if considered that they seem indeed in emotion and in choice of words and in choice of subject matter and in choice of lyricism, to be possibly, important poems; notably the poem on tigers is a perfect example. Written in trances while driving through dense fog in solitary canyons, written on days of equinox that seem foreboding, written in the midst of snowbound white hush winter, written for the autumn that seems like an arrival of someone called eternity, written in the midst of trance, written in flurries of inspiration, written with the calling of angels, these poems are kindly arranged into groups of fives, ten sections each, and include many of the important poems of Sapphire Pleiades' heretofore career. This book honors those lovely light swooshes of being, known as flying saucers, because that is what is wanted by the poetess, for poetry to be free and easy, of the breeze and of the birds, of the eras beyond citydwelling, of the ages when poets could partake of nature, of the energies of freedom and transcendence and enjoyment Thus this collection of poems honors the imagination of childhood, when the self, is a fiction, when all life, is magic, when there is no more important being, than a nearby flower Thus, if the authoress was played like a violin, if she was played like a flute, if she was played like a sitar, by the attendant spirits of wind and water and sunlight and starlight, then it is only because, they want to make poetry, too, and thus, the authoress, prays thanks, to be gifted, to write poems that make the self cry, that capture the awe of spiritual joys, that deep into the imagination and that smooth into the serenity, do fly, with love, then, buy love, buy this book; why not give the self, a little, of heaven, on earth?