Here is my soul, undress her page by pageBehold her private acts upon the stagePray, hold her gently as you browse and lookThis is my soul you handle, not a book.Poetry is a precious, ancient wine, made to be savored and remembered, not gulped and forgotten. It is the grand opera of life, which must be performed to be appreciated. My hope is that you will take time to read it, learn it, and passionately recite it to your loved ones.Without art, life would not be enough because it would lack in truth and beauty. Like all the arts, poetry is music of the soul, whose deep penetrating tunes sing to the heart and echo into the future.Walt Whitman's free verse asked and continues to ask the profound question: "Have you practiced so long to learn to read? Have you felt so proud to get at the meaning of poems?" In our speeding world, his question is becoming more poignant the faster we live.This, my second book of verse, was written between 1987 and 1990, when I was in my early forties. I have revised it and I'm republishing it because it is out of print. In its 154 pages, it holds 60 poems: 13 rhymed, 27 sonnets, and 20 free-verse thoughts.I wish I could recite them all to you.