In A Crowd Of Strangers

Who've Been More Than Just Friends...

The Reason I Write

And Why Pain Never Ends...

The Reason I Love

All Those Who Would Love Me...

The Reason I Listen

To All That My Heart Sees...

The Boys Who Would Laugh

In The Cold Breeze Of Season...

The Voice Of Our Differences Speaks Out In Treason

To All That Would Make Us Afraid And Or Broken...

The Innocent Words

That Were Beautifully Spoken...

The Reason I Wrote This...

The Voice Like A Kiss...

The Voice That Haunts Me

When His Name's Forgotton...

The Whisper Of Doubt...

The Sorrow About

That Voice Which Eclipses All Things Rank And Rotton...

The Cotton Caress Of The Moments Of Quiet...

Not A Soul Would Deny It...

The Power With Words

That He Has Made Love To...

Can Erect And Embrace You...

Can Call One To Action...

Can Give Satisfaction...

The Voice Of This Bishop

Of What The Heart Craves...

The Voice Is Damnation

For All Those It Saves...

For We Congregate

In His Presence Diocesan...

The Voice Is Our God...

The Voice Is Our Reason.

FOR THE BOY OUTSIDE THE NECTARINE WHOSE LAST NAME WAS WELLS

AND WHOSE FIRST NAME I CAN NOT REMEMBER. YOUR VOICE WAS SO

BEAUTIFUL THAT IT INSPIRED THIS POETRY. I HOPE I SEE YOU AGAIN

SO THAT I CAN SHARE WITH YOU WHAT YOUR VOICE SHARED WITH ME.