#AmericanWriters
A lane of Yellow led the eye Unto a Purple Wood Whose soft inhabitants to be Surpasses solitude If Bird the silence contradict
852 Apology for Her Be rendered by the Bee— Herself, without a Parliament Apology for Me.
Years I had been from home, And now, before the door I dared not open, lest a face I never saw before Stare vacant into mine
134 Perhaps you’d like to buy a flower… But I could never sell— If you would like to borrow, Until the Daffodil
199 I’m “wife”—I’ve finished that— That other state— I’m Czar—I’m “Woman” now— It’s safer so—
223 I Came to buy a smile—today— But just a single smile— The smallest one upon your face Will suit me just as well—
257 Delight is as the flight— Or in the Ratio of it, As the Schools would say— The Rainbow’s way—
An everywhere of silver, With ropes of sand To keep it from effacing The track called land.
767 To offer brave assistance To Lives that stand alone— When One has failed to stop them— Is Human—but Divine
A chilly Peace infests the Grass The Sun respectful lies - Not any Trance of industry These shadows scrutinize - Whose Allies go no more astray
828 The Robin is the One That interrupt the Morn With hurried—few—express Reports When March is scarcely on—
Success is counted sweetest By those who ne’er succeed. To comprehend a nectar Requires sorest need. Not one of all the purple Host
527 To put this World down, like a Bu… And walk steady, away, Requires Energy—possibly Agony— ’Tis the Scarlet way
Dare you see a Soul at the White… Then crouch within the door— Red—is the Fire’s common tint— But when the vivid Ore Has vanquished Flame’s conditions…
19 A sepal, petal, and a thorn Upon a common summer’s morn— A flask of Dew—A Bee or two— A Breeze—a caper in the trees—