#AmericanWriters
HIBISCUS flowers are cups of f… (Love me, my lover, life will not… The bright poinsettia shakes in th… A scarlet leaf is blowing away. A lizard lifts his head and listen…
The wind is tossing the lilacs, The new leaves laugh in the sun, And the petals fall on the orchard… But for me the spring is done. Beneath the apple blossoms
As the waves of perfume, heliotrop… Float in the garden when no wind b… Come to us, go from us, whence no… So the old tunes float in my mind, And go from me leaving no trace be…
Did you never know, long ago, how… That your love would never lessen… You were young then, proud and fre… You were too young to know. Fate is a wind, and red leaves fly…
The shining line of motors, The swaying motor-bus, The prancing dancing horses Are passing by for us. The sunlight on the steeple,
Buildings above the leafless trees Loom high as castles in a dream, While one by one the lamps come ou… To thread the twilight with a glea… There is no sign of leaf or bud,
Peace flows into me As the tide to the pool by the sho… It is mine forevermore, It ebbs not back like the sea. I am the pool of blue
Why did you bring me here? The sand is white with snow, Over the wooden domes The winter sea-winds blow— There is no shelter near,
When I have ceased to break my wi… Against the faultiness of things, And learned that compromises wait Behind each hardly opened gate, When I have looked Life in the ey…
OH, I could let the world go by, Its loud new wonders and its wars, But how will I give up the sky When winter dusk is set with stars… And I could let the cities go,
Oh Litis, little slave, why will… These long Egyptian noons bend do… Bowed like the yarrow with a yello… There, lift your eyes no man has e… Dark eyes that wait like faggots f…
I have loved hours at sea, gray ci… The fragile secret of a flower, Music, the making of a poem That gave me heaven for an hour; First stars above a snowy hill,
I have come the selfsame path To the selfsame door, Years have left the roses there Burning as before While I watch them in the wind
Here in the teeth of this triumpha… That shakes the naked shadows on t… Making a key-board of the earth to… From clattering tree and hedge a s… Bear witness for me that I loved…
I am the still rain falling, Too tired for singing mirth— Oh, be the green fields calling, Oh, be for me the earth! I am the brown bird pining