Last Hope
Beside a humble stone, a tree
Floats in the cemetery’s air,
Not planted in memoriam there,
But growing wild, uncultured, free.
Read Poem Floats in the cemetery’s air,
Not planted in memoriam there,
But growing wild, uncultured, free.
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Ars Poetica
for Charles Morice Music first and foremost! In your verse,
Choose those meters odd of syllable,
Read Poem Choose those meters odd of syllable,
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In Muted Tone
Gently, let us steep our love
In the silence deep, as thus,
Branches arching high above
Twine their shadows over us.
Read Poem In the silence deep, as thus,
Branches arching high above
Twine their shadows over us.
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Innocents We
Their long skirts and high heels battled away:
Depending on the ground’s and breezes’ whim,
At times some stocking shone, low on the limb—
Too soon concealed!—tickling our naïveté.
Read Poem Depending on the ground’s and breezes’ whim,
At times some stocking shone, low on the limb—
Too soon concealed!—tickling our naïveté.
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Moonlight
Your soul is like a landscape fantasy,
Where masks and Bergamasks, in charming wise,
Strum lutes and dance, just a bit sad to be
Hidden beneath their fanciful disguise.
Read Poem Where masks and Bergamasks, in charming wise,
Strum lutes and dance, just a bit sad to be
Hidden beneath their fanciful disguise.
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