Affection is like bread, unnoticed till we starve,
and then we dream of it, and sing of it, and paint it.

We were never intimate mother and children while she was our mother - but... when she became our child, the affection came.

Ample make this bed. / Make this bed with awe; / In it wait till judgement break / Excellent and fair.

Is wholesome even for the King.

There came a wind like a bugle; / It quivered through the grass.

I cannot live with You --/ It would be Life --/ And Life is over there --/ Behind the Shelf.