If I were a cinnamon peeler
I would ride your bed
And leave the yellow bark dust
On your pillow.
Your breasts and shoulders would reek
You could never walk through markets
without the profession of my fingers
floating over you. The blind would
stumble certain of whom they approached
......
ONCE more the storm is howling, and half hid
Under this cradle-hood and coverlid
My child sleeps on. There is no obstacle
But Gregory's wood and one bare hill
Whereby the haystack- and roof-levelling wind.
Bred on the Atlantic, can be stayed;
And for an hour I have walked and prayed
Because of the great gloom that is in my mind.
I have walked and prayed for this young child an hour
And heard the sea-wind scream upon the tower,
......
Science! true daughter of Old Time thou art!
Who alterest all things with thy peering eyes.
Why preyest thou thus upon the poet's heart,
Vulture, whose wings are dull realities?
How should he love thee? or how deem thee wise,
Who wouldst not leave him in his wandering
To seek for treasure in the jewelled skies,
Albeit he soared with an undaunted wing?
Hast thou not dragged Diana from her car?
And driven the Hamadryad from the wood
......
I will write a sketch of my early life,
It will be of childhood day,
And all who chance to read it,
No criticism, pray.
My childhood days were happy,
And it fills my heart with woe,
To muse o'er the days that have passed by
And the scenes of long ago.
In the days of my early childhood,
Kent county was quite wild,
......
Come up from the fields, father, here's a letter from our Pete;
And come to the front door, mother-here's a letter from thy dear
son.
Lo, 'tis autumn;
Lo, where the trees, deeper green, yellower and redder,
Cool and sweeten Ohio's villages, with leaves fluttering in the
moderate wind;
Where apples ripe in the orchards hang, and grapes on the trellis'd
vines;
......
Gratitude knots in my throat.
I am surrounded by the bounty of her sacrifices, yet I let it slip through my fingers.
My heart aches with the weight of her expectations, each one a burden I fail to shoulder.
I am the idle child in the garden of plenty, the squanderer of every gift bestowed upon me.
It's a September morning
Everything inside me is breaking
Everything seems okay yet I am not fine
Can't control this mind of mine
It's easy for you to point at my defect
But I already know I am not perfect
No matter how much I do
It's never enough for you
I wanna do more just so you'll be happy
But they are not cooperating, my mind and body
......
Peaches heated by my sun
A dress so simple and so cotton
Would that child ever come
Back home
Where she is forgotten
Would the wind caress the ankles
Like it did so many times before
Would that land eventually remember
That her daughter is left outdoors?
......
She walks with grace and elegance,
Her every step a dance of joy,
A woman of strength and resilience,
Her spirit free, her heart pure as gold.
Her eyes are deep pools of mystery,
Reflecting the depths of her soul,
Her smile a ray of warm sunshine,
That lights up even the darkest of days.
......
I smelled a perfume
and it smelled like her
Mami
and no she is not gone but the version of me that loved her when she wore the perfume is