Extracts from Porphyry’s Life of Plotinus

Writing poetry is not as easy as one originally thinks it is. Poems have a life all their own. You start out one way and they suddenly turn another. You want them to go right and they turn left. You cannot control what they will be, or where they will go. You just hope for the best, hope the stories will help somehow and that they will make sense, but mostly you hope they are liked. I originally began writing about Alzheimeras as I was caring for my mother alone, without help, and I needed something to get me through the rough days when I was scared or lonely. My poetry proved to be the answer. When Momma died, my poetry stayed with me and helped me through my own needs and illnesses. Poetry can be a healer where needed.