Dear mr. Cole. I allow myself "Joe", with the deepest respect For a man I barely know. But I know...
You contain Multitudes, no less than Whitman. Supporting posting Writers with the warmth Of an all-loving Allfather; raining And shining on seedlings sown By poets of varying confidences.
Larger than any poet Ever read Is he who encourages writing.
Joe, yours is the hand that swats The one that holds back the Pen of the uncertain poet.
Your poetry reflects Your garden, God's Creation, The beauty within wild things Growing...
And all that glory and grace Of which you write, My friend, our Joe. Is all a mirror Reflecting Its beholder.