To: Monkey Face; Stingy Dog; Darksheare; Tennessee_Bob
Well, 'Face, here's another piece of clutter for you to unpack...
To Day
Darkness, made the more profound,
By silence, whose husbanded sound,
Has stretched the firmament of stilled air,
Until it almost seems about to tear...
Then worn and tattered threadbare night,
Whose shivering stars have tithed their meager light,
Surrenders to a youthful sun to rouse up all the dew,
As elder brethren go to sleep, all blanketed in blue.
The steaming rocks and hillside pearls are rising,
On slanting golden treads, while songbirds in surprising,
Cheerfulness, unclench their frozen toes,
Before the sunny fireplace that rose.
And I my mind and plans for day compose,
When to my sight an amber-petalled rose,
Has caused all time to stand still in its place,
Until I have completed worship of your face.
NicknamedBob . . . . . . . . October 8, 2005
1,232 posted on
10/08/2005 8:00:58 PM PDT by
NicknamedBob
(George asked me for the best poet... I looked and looked ... I couldn't find anyone better than me.)
To: NicknamedBob
Wow...I actually understood that one...and, like most of your poetry, I fell into it...heart and all. :o|
Thanks!
1,236 posted on
10/08/2005 8:04:35 PM PDT by
Monkey Face
(Do the voices in my head bother you?)
To: NicknamedBob
"Mind clutter, luggage for the skull!"
I ahve no idea why that just popped into my head.
1,241 posted on
10/08/2005 8:08:51 PM PDT by
Darksheare
(There is something in the rain where "somewhere" ends.)
To: NicknamedBob
1,310 posted on
10/09/2005 4:54:18 AM PDT by
Tax-chick
(When bad things happen, conservatives get over it!)
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