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Favorite Poetry


That spring night I spent Pillowed on your arm Never really happened Except in a dream. Unfortunately I am Talked about anyway. Lady Suo
The sea rocks have a green moss The pine needles have red berries I have memories of you Speak to me of how you miss me Tell me the hours go long and slow Speak to me of the drag on your heart The iron drag of the long days I know hours empty as a beggars tin cup on a rainy day Empty as a soldiers sleeve with an arm lost. Speak to me Carl Sandburg
Guilt is gone And with it all the words Spoken in apology For being. It took so long to go And left so easily Just up and moved on. The years of childhood Condense into a moment of Anguish. And the pain dies As other pain at other memories The ache is lessened And under the lightened load I lift my head higher. Fear is beginning to slide now Loosing its grip grasping with Slipping fingers, Soon to take them as they fall All the words spoken in fear of being. Anne Gilbert-Graham

The first time that the sun rose on thine oath to love me, I looked forward to the moon to slacken all those bonds which seemed too soon and quickly tied to make a lasting troth. Quick loving hearts, I thought, may quickly loathe; and looking on myself, I seemed not one for such a mans love! More like an out of tune, worn viol a good singer would be wroth to spoil his song with, and which, snatched in haste is laid down at the first ill-sounding note. I did not wrong my self so, but I placed a wrong on thee. For perfect strains may float 'neath masters hands, from instruments defaced ___ And great souls, at one stroke may do and doat. Sonnets from the Portuguese XXXII Elizabeth Barrett Browning

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