It is my lady carpenter: Oh, it is my love! Oh, that she knew she were. She puts up beadboard, yet asks for nothing: what of that? Her photographs discourse, I will comment.- I am not bold enough, 'tis not to me she turns: Two of her great accomplishments in construction, Having commodius done: Her palette violet. See, how she leans her hand upon the keyboard! Oh, that I were an enter button upon that keyboard, That I might touch that hand!
red sky at night, sailor's delight.
ReplyDeleteRed sky in the morning, sailors take warning.
It was evening.
It is my lady carpenter: Oh, it is my love!
ReplyDeleteOh, that she knew she were.
She puts up beadboard, yet asks for nothing: what of that?
Her photographs discourse, I will comment.-
I am not bold enough, 'tis not to me she turns:
Two of her great accomplishments in construction,
Having commodius done: Her palette violet.
See, how she leans her hand upon the keyboard!
Oh, that I were an enter button upon that keyboard,
That I might touch that hand!
And For Those Of You Who Missed The Last Time Around: The Amazing: Ode To Incinolet
ReplyDeleteWe sit behind this peaceful door
And ponder times that passed before;
The loves we'll tend forever more,
And some we now regret--
When wrest from our exotic lives
Somehow our solitude survives
Protected safe this room connives
A human/steel duet--
As if in eye of whirling winds
We find renewal now begins
And as our swollen bladder thins
Our purpose is reset--
So leave behind the battles fought;
The things that make you most distraught
Are ashes, now, of times forgot
Deep in Incinolet.