Next year take me dancing in the moonlight, Remembering our very first summer nights And how two years I go I became yours And then last summer pledged my forever more. This is the year and summer we are one And I give all I have to be undone Uncertain
4.27: Sophia by *LaBruyereA beautiful piece of fixed form poetry postscript Why is it all my weary days are spent In turning cowslips into rays of sun And floating over blades of grass, unbent And drawing four conclusions out of one? No mercy hath the stone and wooden fence
The long, low sound of Bass clarinets And the slow progress On a half-size concert bass Bring forth the long duress First wrought by sunsets And which now has Stretched And won't be snapping back Anytime soon. So here's the moon Mocking age and books. Plodding,
What if, today, You spoke my name And I was unaware? What if, last night, You held me close With love I cannot bear? What if I face, without a smile A world that needs me to? What if my anger, all my tears Should not be aimed at You?
Too many harsh words for one day. I've had my fill of godless talk. There are no cells left here to fight, And nearer comes the time to walk. The head and ears are overwrought. The eyes too strained to see the way. Pain is growing more, not