Rude is this Edifice, and Thou hast seen
Buildings, albeit rude, that have maintained
Proportions more harmonious, and approached
To closer fellowship with ideal grace.
But take it in good part:--alas! the poor
Vitruvius of our village had no help
From the great City; never, upon leaves
Of red Morocco folio, saw displayed,
In long succession, pre-existing ghosts
Of Beauties yet unborn--the rustic Lodge
......
The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold,
And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold;
And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea,
When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee.
Like the leaves of the forest when Summer is green,
That host with their banners at sunset were seen:
Like the leaves of the forest when Autumn hath blown,
That host on the morrow lay withered and strown.
......
I ne'er was struck before that hour
With love so sudden and so sweet,
Her face it bloomed like a sweet flower
And stole my heart away complete.
My face turned pale as deadly pale.
My legs refused to walk away,
And when she looked, what could I ail?
My life and all seemed turned to clay.
And then my blood rushed to my face
......
January brings the snow,
makes our feet and fingers glow.
February brings the rain,
Thaws the frozen lake again.
March brings breezes loud and shrill,
stirs the dancing daffodil.
April brings the primrose sweet,
......
I
1 Our brains ache, in the merciless iced east winds that knife us ...
2 Wearied we keep awake because the night is silent ...
3 Low drooping flares confuse our memory of the salient ...
4 Worried by silence, sentries whisper, curious, nervous,
5 But nothing happens.
6 Watching, we hear the mad gusts tugging on the wire.
7 Like twitching agonies of men among its brambles.
......
Amid the recent snowfall, is a sunny, yellow cascade;
For, jasmine blooms are now plunging, in cold shade.
Stark trees are forever shivering, though much alive;
Dreaming of the purple birds, and lonesome beehives.
Jasmine is blooming, on every fence and green trellis,
Like rainbow that lingers; when it has much to tell us!
The street of pink-blue skies, now brings ready smiles;
To see myriad florets, on one of nature's snowy aisles.
In the heart of winter, I stand,
Surrounded by a landscape of white silence.
The snow blankets the earth,
Each flake a delicate touch,
Soft, yet unyielding in its cold embrace.
The trees are skeletal fingers,
Reaching up to a sky of muted gray,
Their limbs bare, stripped of life,
Yet beautiful in their stark simplicity.
......
Edna Morris lived in the town of Shadow Fells, in rich green, hilly country,
With doting parents and sister Violet, plucking fruit from their plum tree.
Pretty Edna was twelve years old, but she and Violet played all seasons,
Making skinny scarecrows and fat snowmen, like blizzards of no reason.
Horses were a common sight in the area, like the pastel beauty of dawn.
The Morrises had yet to aquire one, like black velvet, once moon is gone.
Flexible friends frolicked with Violet and Edna, like thrills of the first fall;
......
Upon the earth, a soft and silent shroud,
The first snowfall whispers secrets untold,
Each flake a dream, in silver light endowed,
As nature dons her gown of purest gold.
In quiet awe, the world begins to pause,
The air, a crisp embrace, so fresh and bright,
While laughter dances, children's joyful cause,
Their footprints weave a tale in gleaming white.
......
I always long for winter,
cold but not the rain.
And enjoy the fluffy white,
covering the road and lane.
The icy woods would sparkle,
in the hazy light of sun.
Greyish the skies shall be,
after the storms have gone.
My eyes enjoy the beauty,
......