#AmericanWriters
DEBORAH and Christopher brough… Kenton brought me buttercups with… But Michael brought an autumn lea… A wan leaf, a ghost leaf, beautifu… Death in all loveliness, fragile a…
WHY don’t you go back to the sea,… I am not one who would hold you; The sea is the woman you really lo… So let hers be the arms that fold… Your bright blue eyes are sailor’s…
IF I had loved you, soon, ah, soo… Had I been kind you had kissed me… The kiss that I would not give is… Now you are mine forever, because… You think that you are free and ha…
THE heart knoweth? If this be tr… Then the thing that I bear in my… For it knows no more than a hollow… That answers to every wind. I am sick of the thing! I think w…
AND now it is all to be done over… And what will come of it only God… What has become of the furrows plo… And the plants set row on row? Where are the lines of beautiful b…
WHEN a storm comes up at night a… When the trees are moaning like ma… I wake in fear and put out my hand… With your name on my lips. No pain that the heart can hold is…
I CAN never remake the thing I h… I brushed the golden dust from the… I called down wind to shatter the… I did a terrible thing. I feared that the cup might fall,…
THE web flew out and floated wide… Poor lady! I was with her then. She gathered up her piteous pride, But she could never weave again. The mirror cracked from side to si…
The thing that I am seeking I know I shall not find; A wistful voice is crying This sorrow in my mind. I know I shall not find it
WHEN I was young my heart was ol… My heart was rich and very wise: Now all its wisdom has been told And all its wealth is fairy gold And all its joy futilities.
Kenton and Deborah, Michael and… These are fine children as all the… But into my arms in my dreams ever… Come Peter and Christopher, Fait… Kenton is tropical, Rose is pure…
MICHAEL walks in autumn leaves Rustling leaves and fading grasses… And his little music-box Tinkles faintly as he passes. It’s a gay and jaunty tune
I’M glad I have but a little hear… For my heart is very small’ It makes it free to come and go And no one cares at all. I give my heart for a tender word,
A wind rose in the night, (She had always feared it so!) Sorrow plucked at my heart And I could not help but go. Softly I went and stood
I know you are too dear to stay; You are so exquisitely sweet: My lonely house will thrill some d… To echoes of your eager feet. I hold your words within my heart,