#AmericanWriters
How the slates of the roof sparkle… beyond the high wall! How quietly… over there, over there, sliding th… of the line, stately with canvas,… over the glittering roof, over the…
I will mix me a drink of stars, — Large stars with polychrome needle… Small stars jetting maroon and cri… Cool, quiet, green stars. I will tear them out of the sky,
Near where I live there is a lake As blue as blue can be, winds make It dance as they go blowing by. I think it curtseys to the sky. It’s just a lake of lovely flowers
Leisure, thou goddess of a bygone… When hours were long and days suff… Wide-eyed delights and pleasures u… By shortening moments, when no gau… Of undone duties, modern heritage,
By day you cannot see the sky For it is up so very high. You look and look, but it’s so blu… That you can never see right throu… But when night comes it is quite p…
Frindsbury, Kent, 1786 Bang! Bang! Tap! Tap-a-tap! Rap!
This afternoon was the colour of w… The trees glittered with the tumbl… The sidewalks shone like alleys of… And the houses ran along them laug… Under a tree in the park,
The inkstand is full of ink, and t… in the round of light thrown by a… the corners, and keep rolling thro… is silver and pearl, for the night… See how the roof glitters, like ic…
How should I sing when buffeting… And stung with bitter surges, in w… I toss, a cockleshell? The dreadf… Marshals its undefeated dark and r… In brutal madness, reeling over gr…
It was a gusty night, With the wind booming, and swoopin… Looping round corners, Sliding over the cobble-stones, Whipping and veering,
Glinting golden through the trees, Apples of Hesperides! Through the moon-pierced warp of n… Shoot pale shafts of yellow light, Swaying to the kissing breeze
Blue through the window burns the… Heavy, through trees, blows the wa… Glistening, against the chill, gra… Wet, black branches are barred and… Sodden and spongy, the scarce-gree…
As I sit here in the quiet Summer… Suddenly, from the distant road, t… The grind and rush of an electric… And, from still farther off, An engine puffs sharply,
Pale, with the blue of high zenith… In smooth, running patterns, a sof… Warm from a woman’s soft shoulders… Where is she, the woman who wore i… A languor, fire-shotted, runs thro…
All night I wrestled with a memor… Which knocked insurgent at the gat… The crumbled wreck of years behind… Its disillusion; now I only cry For peace, for power to forget the…
