#AmericanWriters
How long shall I tarnish the mirr… A spatter of rust on its polished… The seasons reel Like a goaded wheel. Half-numb, half-maddened, my days…
You are ice and fire, The touch of you burns my hands li… You are cold and flame. You are the crimson of amaryllis, The silver of moon-touched magnoli…
See! He trails his toes Through the long streaks of moonli… And the nails of his fingers glitt… They claw and flash among the tree… His lips suck at my open window,
He shouts in the sails of the ship… He steals the down from the honeyb… He makes the forest trees rustle a… He twirls my kite till it breaks i… Laughing, dancing, sunny wind,
The fountain bent and straightened… In the night wind, Blowing like a flower. It gleamed and glittered, A tall white lily,
All day long I have been working, Now I am tired I call: “Where are you?” But there is only the oak-tree rus… The house is very quiet,
Oblong, its jutted ends rounding i… The old sunken basin lies with its… An inch below the terrace tiles. Over the stagnant water Slide reflections:
Blue and pink sashes, Criss-cross shoes, Minna and Stella run out into the… To play at hoop. Up and down the garden-paths they…
The rain gullies the garden paths And tinkles on the broad sides of… A tree, at the end of my arm, is h… Even so, I can see that it has re… A scarlet fruit,
My cup is empty to-night, Cold and dry are its sides, Chilled by the wind from the open… Empty and void, it sparkles white… The room is filled with the strang…
Why do you subdue yourself in gold… Why do you dim yourself with folde… Do you not see that I can buy bro… And that I am choked in the twili… How pale you would be, and startli…
They have watered the street, It shines in the glare of lamps, Cold, white lamps, And lies Like a slow-moving river,
The day is fresh-washed and fair, and there is a smell of tulips and narcissus in the air. The sunshine pours in at the bath-room window and bores through the water in the bath-...
This little bowl is like a mossy p… In a Spring wood, where dogtooth… Nodding in chequered sunshine of t… A quiet place, still, with the sou… Where, though unseen, is heard the…
I learnt to write to you in happie… And every letter was a piece I ch… From off my heart, a fragment newl… From the mosaic of life; its blues… Its throbbing reds, I gave to ear…