Untitled Poem 1
If coarse voices outside our window
Are strange we fear them;
Hearing them we fear the one low
And different.
But the voice of a woman covers
Like a melody our fear.
Weirdly the male voices outside a window
Never have a sound that's soft or thin
When you're quiet in a room.
If you're quiet in a room you like it better
With no sound outside or in.
Untitled Poem 2
For the Mighty was lonely
And fearful, with Him only
To conemplate all
From His Kingdom wall.
"With Me I want instead,"
A companion awhile-dead;
From then continuously
Life and Death with Me.
"With Me I want to think"
A Being, and He to sink
In Death, and Life to send;
As otherwise I see an end.
Untitled Poem 3
I move slow and thoughtful among them
Unheeding: a flavored bed is the moss
And the floor of the forest.
The sky is like a blue glint
In a woman's black hair-
If leaf by leaf the blue
Is pressed reluctantly through
The trees, I lie and wait
For it's covering.
On my eyelids that close
I feel a touch
As if the storm, hovering
Is pleading to linger.
The greyness in the distance
Is an image of beauty,
Of travail done.
A Shower and a Forest
Two leaves pass apart-
Many leaves stir and glimpses
Between them tell of rain.
I ride a broad blown fancy
Before the rain and swing
Away alone-
Between the green, and streaks
Of the branches see the congregation
The hot winds have crowded
Seal grey in the sky-
Clouds are grey as a deer,
As an image of a fawn in a quiet forest.
Leaves that part tell of a spatter
Of rain, softly, a whisper of caresses
Through the warm slow breeze.
I guess just for you, and
For me at times I tell,
A closed wood is full
Of many, many things and a bell.
Beauty is a bell under hurried
Raindrops - a fierce and mellow
Wind driving.
Or Beauty is an image....
Is a woman.
Like a patter of feet the rain
Passes through the parted leaves,
Some creeping down the branches racing a squirrel,
Others falling straight with a diamond flash.
Some like the grasses curl
Fling themselves through the trees,
And fall together with a crash.
