#AmericanWriters #FreeVerse
The green-blue ground is ruled with silver lines to say the sun is shining And on this moral sea of grass or dreams lie flowers
You say love is this, love is that… Poplar tassels, willow tendrils the wind and the rain comb, tinkle and drip, tinkle and drip— branches drifting apart. Hagh!
THERE is a bird in the poplars— It is the sun! The leaves are little yellow fish Swimming in the river; The bird skims above them—
beauty is a shell from the sea where she rules triumphant till love has had its way with her scallops and
First he said: It is the woman in us That makes us write– Let us acknowledge it– Men would be silent.
What have I to say to you When we shall meet? Yet— I lie here thinking of you. The stain of love
If a man can say of his life or any moment of his life, There is nothing more to be desired! his st… becomes like that told in the famo… double sonnet—but without the
By constantly tormenting them with reminders of the lice in their children’s hair, the School Physician first brought their hatred down on him.
O’eh’lee! La’la! Donna! Donna! Blue is the sky of Palermo; Blue is the little bay; And dost thou remember the orange…
My wife’s new pink slippers have gay pompons. There is not a spot or a stain on their satin toes or their sides… All night they lie together
It is a satisfaction a joy to have one of those in the house. when she takes a bath
A big young bareheaded woman in an apron Her hair slicked back standing on the street One stockinged foot toeing
The coroner’s merry little childre… Have such twinkling brown eyes. Their father is not of gay men And their mother jocular in no wis… Yet the coroner’s merry little chi…
By the road to the contagious hosp… under the surge of the blue mottled clouds driven from the northeast—a cold wind. Beyond, the waste of broad, muddy fields
The little sparrows hop ingenuously about the pavement quarreling with sharp voices