The good gray guardians of art Patrol the halls on spongy shoes, Impartially protective, though Perhaps suspicious of Toulouse. Here dozes one against the wall,

A ball will bounce; but less and l… A light-hearted thing, resents its… Falling is what it loves, and the… So in our hearts from brilliance, Settles and is forgot.

One wading a Fall meadow finds on… The Queen Anne’s Lace lying like… On water; it glides So from the walker, it turns Dry grass to a lake, as the slight…

I read how Quixote in his random… Came to a crossing once, and lest… The purity of chance, would not de… Whither to fare, but wished his ho… For glory lay wherever turned the…

A woman I have never seen before Steps from the darkness of her tow… At just that crux of time when she… So beautiful that she or time must… What use to claim that as she tugs…

The eyes open to a cry of pulleys, And spirited from sleep, the astou… soul Hangs for a moment bodiless and simple

Securely sunning in a forest glade… A mild, well-meaning snake Approved the adaptations he had ma… For safety’s sake. He liked the skin he had—

Rabbi, we Gadarenes Are not ascetics; we are fond of w… Love, as You call it, we obviate… Of the planned release of aggressi… We have deep faith in properity.

Seeing the snowman standing all al… In dusk and cold is more than he c… The small boy weeps to hear the wi… A night of gnashings and enormous… His tearful sight can hardly reach…

Blow out the candles of your cake. They will not leave you in the dar… Who round with grace this dusky ar… Of the grand tour which souls must… You who have sounded William Blak…

R.Frost 100th B’day The air was soft, the ground still… In wet dull pastures where I stro… Was something I could not believe… Dead grass appeared to slide and h…

Sidling upon the river, the white… Has volleyed with its cannon all t… Shaken the shore towns like a Jud… Telling the palsied water its dema… That the crime come to the top aga…

St. John tells how, at Cana’s wed… The water-pots poured wine in such… That by his sober count There were a hundred gallons at th… It made no earthly sense, unless t…

A thrush, because I’d been wrong, Burst rightly into song In a world not vague, not lonely, Not governed by me only.

Dream fluently, still brothers, wh… Took with your mother’s milk the m… In which pure matrix, joining worl… You strove to leave some line of v… Like still fresh tracks across a f…