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The crest and crowning of all good,
Life's final star, is brotherhood;
For it will bring again to Earth
Her long-lost Poesy and Mirth;
Will send new light on every face,
A kingly power upon the race.
And till it come, we men are...
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Say not of beauty she is good, Or aught but beautiful, Or sleek to doves' wings of the wood Her wild wings of a gull. Call her not wicked; that word's touch Consumes her like a curse; But love her not too much, too much, For that is even...
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Once, when my husband was a child, there came To his father's table, one who called him kin, In sunbleached corduroys paler than his skin. His look was grave and kind; he bore the name Of the dead singer of Senlac, and his smile. Shyly and...
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Because I could not stop for Death —
He kindly stopped for me —
The Carriage held but just Ourselves —
And Immortality.
We slowly drove —He knew no haste
And I had put away
My labor and my leisure too,...
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Why do believers
Believe in their God
Its not simply perverse
And not all a fraud
The faith heelers cure
Of money and faith
The percepts are thieves of
Your time and your grace
Criminals walk with
Their symbols in...
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You transported me to the top of the mountain,
smoothed, stroked my feathers,
mended my wing,
fed me fish,
held grapes to my lips.
You led me deep into paths of pleasure,
near falling waters,
onto vaulted tree tops,
through...
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When you unearth Atlantis
there
you will find me
my backroads
my passion
flung among the rubble.
You will find me
as embers
eros of energy
heaving through debris
like mountains
ascending from the ocean.
All you...
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He's gathering up her belongings:
photographs, books, remembrances,
to store away in the attic.
The latter comes down cracking
and creaking like old bones
muttering about things left undone,
seeming less than sturdy.
An old house has...
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On another cold New England morning,
we sit at the breakfast table, silent.
Outside the kitchen window,
naked trees gather snow
on their black wetted limbs.
They look like photograph negatives
edges raised and sharpened.
A world...
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Tis true, 'tis day; what though it be?
O wilt thou therefore rise from me?
Why should we rise, because 'tis light?
Did we lie down, because 'twas night?
Love, which in spite of darkness brought us hither,
Should in despite of light keep...
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Bright star! would I were steadfast as thou art -
Not in lone splendor hung aloft the night,
And watching, with eternal lids apart,
Like Nature's patient, sleepless eremite,
The moving waters at their priestlike task
Of pure ablution...
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I have seen dawn and sunset on moors and windy hills Coming in solemn beauty like slow old tunes of Spain: I have seen the lady April bringing the daffodils, Bringing the springing grass and the soft warm April rain. I have heard the song of the...
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Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord: He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored; He hath loosed the fateful lightning of his terrible swift sword: His truth is marching on. I have seen him in the...
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The page awaits my input and desire
A blank beginning open to change
No expectations beyond effort
No assumptions beyond acceptance
Oh where to begin
The pencil awaits my gentle strength
An implement of action if I so choose
No...
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Sunshine penetrates my inner core
Sea breeze heightens my awareness
Waves lap on rock solid base
Wooden boat putters into shore
Where will the winds of discovery pause
Wandering over the fallen leaves
Seated next to history renewed...
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Boatswain The following poem " Epitaph to a Dog, " is Lord Byron's tribute to his dog, "Boatswain," etched on a monument in the garden of Newstead Abbey. Near this spot Are deposited the Remains of one Who possessed Beauty...
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I wonder why bananas grow, Pointing to the sky. Do bananas have ambition? Do you think they want to fly? If you tried to turn them over, Do you think that they would balk? Bananas should grow downward, Not growing UP the stalk. Bananas are a silly...
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Day is marigold painted enamel,
art wrapped in bird feather voodoo,
rain and sun the same white rib.
Canon spiders knocking childtrick
cadavers over stone, your
crylove mouth in my hands as a hostage.
Where are your frog and fern...
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To obtain, that which is longed for,
distinctness and uniqueness,
intentionality and expression of the soul,
achieved ?nally.
To succeed and to solve
to resolve humbly;
scales of justice
judgment returning.
...
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Your lips upon desire and
Wind through your hair,
Then we went up
Into the mountains
And just the wind
Was behind us.
There was an afternoon
With muggy spaces,
Crimson butterflies,
Tall grasses, and
The silence of ...
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the slow squeaking
of evening scratches.
his voice is timelessness
and wisdom.
a soothing of his years
and greying hair.
reminders falling simply
in a surrounding of
his generous motions.
I speak, bringing glowing
to his eyes....
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Tomorrow is seen through the bowl of yesterday’s breakfast of
Salty oatmeal.
It is impossible to move beyond the prophecy of self-image
Or personal distaste.
Falling.
Weeping.
Laughing.
It is all the same when the days...
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The peaches are tangier,
the milk,
that much creamier,
may nothing
or no one intrude
on this breakfast,
after the fact.
Even the nattering twitter
of the six o’clock alarm
seemed to chime
fantastic, sweet...
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The tree asked "why on me do you climb," "To shelter my tender shoots" said the vine. "You save me from the open terrain, Where animals trample again and again." "As you lose all your leaves to winters scorn, ...
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If the red slayer think he slays, Or if the slain think he is slain, They know not well the subtle ways I keep, and pass, and turn again. Far or forgot to me is near; Shadow and sunlight are the same; The vanished gods to me appear; And one to me...
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