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By the way

One day on a stroll, breathtaking hilly and mountainous scenery settled in my head. I hurried home to write “The Walk,” my first poem since taking a stab at poetry as a youngster. Relatives and friends liked it. With scant knowledge of the craft of poetry, I searched for a writing group. Finding one at Barnes and Noble in Rancho Cucamonga, its members led me to IECWC (Inland Empire California Writers Club). My membership in the club since 2001 has been one of my better experiences. Now a published poet with contest winnings and published book under my belt—I owe it to God, and my dear mother who out of love for his work, named me after Robert Louis Stevenson—Scottish novelist, essayist, and poet. Indebtedness extends also to IECWC colleagues for contributions that I lean on and glean from, endeavoring to become an even more accomplished writer.

Following four years of military service, my professional career was as an administrator and writer for Financial Mangagement Services at the United States Treasury department in

Washington, D.C. Little did I know during 32 years at Treasury that I would aquire a passion

for poetry or be a resident of California. Fortuitously after retirement, my bride of now 61

years visited the Inland Empire. She liked all she encountered and asked me to go and take a look. Liking it, too, we said so long to often unkind winters of suburban Maryland and took up Inlandia residency.

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