Field Of Pansies

Soft, how soft, feel the pansies faces;
Soft on lips and on eyelids closed.
Fall’n have I after several races
Down in victory light reposed.
You come after and bump against me;
Laugh, exhausted, breathing so fast.
Tied at two, I leapt and burst by you,
Knew your loss would be my defeat.
First in triumph I kiss, through petals,
Lips not late that have won complete.
Winner, loser, you lie against me;
Crushed between, all these flowers massed.
Soft, how soft, is our field of pansies,
Soft on lips and on eyelids closed.

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Along The Shore

Slow, how slowly, through the heavy fog,
Moves the boat; as gray, as gray as fog,
Slow does float. And no, there is no sound,
No one’s around. Like some huge log
On the boat goes, a pictured breath
Drawing out of sight into the night.
Only now I see the misty, misty moon;
Only now I hear the sea, the sea, a-roar;
Only now I whistle, whistle one free tune
While I, I walk alone along the shore.

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Love’s Riches

The sun goes to nightward at your bright return;
The sky, it grows darker as your gray eyes burn;
The wind’s kicking higher and the stars twink weak
As walk you on up, now, with the wealth I seek.
With lipfulls of kisses you scatter red gold;
Your hands love’s true treasures give my hands to hold.
The vault of your body ‘gainst my body sways
And squeezes out profit in quietest ways.
The dark is all-glowing with minting of love—
Full life-dollar coined in the fusion thereof!
Rare one-of-a-kind is our glory tonight,
Worth more than the sun and its world of light!

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The Happy Singer

When O’s of silence steal on your ear
And round you turn—but naught is all you hear;
When wind is nil, and nothing nothings sigh,
And all the world is darkness where you lie;
Then ‘magine me a-struggling with my pen
To make a song of light for loving men!
My brain now builds a pyramid of song
As note on welling note I point and pile;
Becomes a tower ringing bright and strong,
Then rocketship high-glancing with a smile!
At last I fuel my wonder-work with flame—
The lightning-flower hymn of your fair name!
Let soaring song now gratify your ears,
Then see the happy singer—-who appears!

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O, Were I…

O, were I bracelet on your wrist
A-jingling by your side,
I’d ring a tune to get me kissed
By your sweet lips of pride.

A simple thing, with ding and ding,
To pay you with delight,
Then would I lie a happy thing
Against your lips all night.

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New Life

This nippy morning air has bit your cheeks;
They glow so loud with your new life that I
Am eyes-all-eyes for hearing. Nothing speaks
So cleanly clear as wint’ry sun in sky,
And as your joy-light circles me around
I twist a mild typhoon, without a sound,
The while my laughing heart beats hard and swift
Till breathless breath engulfs me with your gift.
You speak, and I see flower-tips of lips
Bloom in the air; so ringing waves your hair
That I am struck like bells, that bells eclipse,
Yet somehow do I stand, as you go—there
(You have another job and will be great,
While all day long I think and write and wait).
Again you speak—my name! With soft goodbyes
I follow singing flames of your proud eyes!

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Speaks the Parrot

“Youth’s a stuff will not endure,”
Truth, a thing that will;
Young at heart may play a part
Falsehood cannot kill.

Love’s a bird will always sing
Sweet in ageing tree;
Death will not be cancelling
Endless love for thee.

Blossomed joy may smile awhile,
Sorrow’s leaves may fall;
April’s ever fresh’ning style—
It outlasts them all.

Spring in age, it grows so sage
Winter’s kept outdoors;
Speaks bald parrot with sharp rage,
“Stuff of youth endures!”

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