Clifford Palmer King Tacoma, Washington

Clifford is seventy-seven years old. He has written three hundred poems since he met and married Betty, his partner and inspiration, in 1994. Clifford has been published by The Poets Guild, Quill Publishing, The National Library of Poetry, and Creative Arts and Sciences. He has been awarded an "Editor's Choice" and "Accomplishment of Merit". And he has been entered into "The International Poetry Hall of Fame". Clifford has been in the Navy and worked in the motion picture industry. He has also been in the management field, real estate, and a long time member of the "Chamber of Commerce."

So Like A Flower A woman is like a flower She starts out like a bud and Like a rose, her beauty increases Every day, until it's like a flood. Here the comparison ends. For flowers wither and die. A woman grows so many ways As she reaches for the sky She becomes a special thing, a jewel, A queen, a wife and soon she's a Mother, the giver of all life. And still she goes on growing A paragon of virtue, a vessel of good taste. Women are the fabric that holds our world together. And she does this with love, it floats around her like a feather.

Lonely Streets I walk the lonely streets at night. I am very much aware, That danger is all around me. But I don't even care. For I am very much alone. And life is hard to live. What makes it even worse, I have a lot to give. But no one needs a lonely soul, And so they look away. I have no one to talk to, No one to smile and say, Hello to you, I hope you're well. And it's a lovely day. I have no home to go to. No fire to sit beside. No bed for me to sleep in. No car to take a ride. I yearn to have a someone, That I could call my own. I wish I had some supper, But I don't even have a bone. But I survive, I know not why. Why am I alive? But heaven waits for me some day, And for that alone I strive.

All poems Copyright © 1996 Clifford Palmer King. All rights reserved.