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Elizabeth Clayton began teaching at the age of twenty at the University of Southern Mississippi. Presently retired, she is spending her days reviewing and preparing her works for publication. Clayton has published thirteen works (primarily poetry) since the release of her autobiography in 2007, which chronicles her struggles with Bipolar Disorder. In November, 2012, she was inducted into the Literary Hall of Fame, Sigma Kappa Delta, and nominated for the Eric Hoffer award by her publisher in early spring, 2013. She is also featured in the summer, 2013 quarter of Forward magazine, and her...

Elizabeth Clayton began teaching at the age of twenty at the University of Southern Mississippi. Presently retired, she is spending her days reviewing and preparing her works for publication. Clayton has published thirteen works (primarily poetry) since the release of her autobiography in 2007, which chronicles her struggles with Bipolar Disorder. In November, 2012, she was inducted into the Literary Hall of Fame, Sigma Kappa Delta, and nominated for the Eric Hoffer award by her publisher in early spring, 2013. She is also featured in the summer, 2013 quarter of Forward magazine, and her...

"--Ah, we cannot know, in reality, until the afternoon, how much the feast has set out for us."

The book, We Lesser Gods is a record of a difficult compilation of one life, one self - events, sentiments, ideas -- these formed and being accepted or rejected in their come maturity. Ideas are included at many cognitive levels, toward the consensus, said to be a choice, but a forced choice, involving components of only surmisal, balanced by "the forward appendage of thought: hope."

..".I must admit you have a way with words I found your poetry interesting, and your descriptions...

"Respite is a come good- or the memory of a wish that did - after the dark"

In Springtime's Fields of Glory
And let me lie in springtime's fields of glory,
In meadows at bloom, a counterpointed flower,
Where clouds, effacing, having lost their daunted presence,
And I to peace of these, and thought,
Know healing silence in feeling,
Touch, and understanding.
Beauty, my long companion, will drape a pall
Of lovely, silken gray, of sunbeams
Turned briefly, in kindness, aside,
To sprinkle crystal raindrops over petaled

"--Ah, we cannot know, in reality, until the afternoon, how much the feast has set out for us."

The book, We Lesser Gods is a record of a difficult compilation of one life, one self - events, sentiments, ideas -- these formed and being accepted or rejected in their come maturity. Ideas are included at many cognitive levels, toward the consensus, said to be a choice, but a forced choice, involving components of only surmisal, balanced by "the forward appendage of thought: hope."

..".I must admit you have a way with words I found your poetry interesting, and your descriptions...