#AmericanWriters
He ate and drank the precious Wor… His Spirit grew robust— He knew no more that he was poor, Nor that his frame was Dust— He danced along the dingy Days
Nature rarer uses Yellow Than another Hue. Saves she all of that for Sunsets Prodigal of Blue Spending Scarlet, like a Woman
Fame is a fickle food Upon a shifting plate Whose table once a Guest but not The second time is set.
The heart asks pleasure first And then, excuse from pain– And then, those little anodynes That deaden suffering; And then, to go to sleep;
634 You’ll know Her—by Her Foot— The smallest Gamboge Hand With Fingers—where the Toes shoul… Would more affront the Sand—
The butterfly obtains But little sympathy Though favorably mentioned In Entomology - Because he travels freely
It dropped so low—in my Regard— I heard it hit the Ground— And go to pieces on the Stones At bottom of my Mind— Yet blamed the Fate that flung it…
All men for Honor hardest work But are not known to earn - Paid after they have ceased to wor… In Infamy or Urn -
I dwell in Possibility – A fairer House than Prose – More numerous of Windows – Superior – for Doors – Of Chambers as the Cedars –
Heart, we will forget him, You and I, tonight! You must forget the warmth he gave… I will forget the light. When you have done pray tell me,
LVI Faith is a fine invention For gentlemen who see; But microscopes are prudent In an emergency!
786 Severer Service of myself I—hastened to demand To fill the awful Vacuum Your life had left behind—
To mend each tattered Faith There is a needle fair Though no appearance indicate ’Tis threaded in the Air And though it do not wear
200 I stole them from a Bee— Because—Thee— Sweet plea— He pardoned me!
601 A still—Volcano—Life— That flickered in the night— When it was dark enough to do Without erasing sight—