POETRY: A Magazine of Verse
NOCTURNE IN A DESERTED BRICKYARD
Stuff of the moon
Runs on the lapping sand
Out to the longest shadows
Under the curving willows,
And round the creep of the wave line,
Fluxions of yellow and dusk on the waters
Make a wide dreaming pansy of an old pond in the night.
ALONE
Naked I stood on the soft shingle of sand where the sea swept my legs with salt and wet.
Alone I walked under the arch of night where stars fluttered between treetops in the wind.
And a long memory it is I have how the sea and the night were kind.
MONOTONE
The monotone of the rain is beautiful,
And the sudden rise and slow relapse
Of the long multitudinous rain.
The sun on the hills is beautiful,
Or a captured sunset sea-flung,
Bannered with fire and gold.
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