She follows me about my House of Life
(This happy little ghost of my dead Youth!)
She has no part in Time's relentless strife
She keeps her old simplicity and truth --
And laughs at grim Mortality,
This deathless Child that stays with me --
(This happy little ghost of my dead Youth!)
My House of Life is weather-stained with years --
(O Child in Me, I wonder why you stay.)
......
Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
......
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,
......
Oft I had heard of Lucy Gray:
And, when I crossed the wild,
I chanced to see at break of day
The solitary child.
No mate, no comrade Lucy knew;
She dwelt on a wide moor,
- The sweetest thing that ever grew
Beside a human door!
......
Calm was the day, and through the trembling air
Sweet-breathing Zephyrus did softly play
A gentle spirit, that lightly did delay
Hot Titan's beams, which then did glister fair;
When I (whom sullen care,
Through discontent of my long fruitless stay
In prince's court, and expectation vain
Of idle hopes, which still do fly away
Like empty shadows, did afflict my brain),
Walk'd forth to ease my pain
......
ODE TO ELEPHANT
Elephant Elephant
enveloping essence of Earth !
I hear an elevated trumpet
far in elixired fair forests
my ears etheric ornaments
in your eloping velvet ones
stroking my elfin questions
......
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.
......