O Waves of Fire
O waves of fire,
Smoke rose from deep;
All young desire- ,
And flower to keep.
River invisible clearer,
The repeat of the wave;
Feelings inside steerer,
All of heart's conclave.
O waves and clouds,
Open hands and lines;
What a moment enshrouds,
And an instant assigns.
Where the boatman will row,
And it stretches and breaks;
Where the bottom lilies grow,
And love bleeds and aches.
O waves of blue,
Motionless and apart;
All the eyes are untrue!
There is no throbbing in a heart.
Night comes down to the trees,
Grass is yellow and gray;
There is no fresh in the breeze,
There is no coming of day.
posted by Peter S. Quinn @ 2:32 PM
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