TOO green the springing April grass,
Too blue the silver-speckled sky,
For me to linger here, alas,
While happy winds go laughing by,
Wasting the golden hours indoors,
Washing windows and scrubbing floors.
Too wonderful the April night,
Too faintly sweet the first May flowers,
The stars too gloriously bright,
For me to spend the evening hours,
When fields are fresh and streams are leaping,
Wearied, exhausted, dully sleeping.
Claude McKay
Poems from my favorite poets, Photo-shopped images/backgrounds that I created for some of them, poetry that I have written. This is a place for me to explore the beauty of words, poetry, life. It's my happy place.
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The Secret
You are the secret my heart holds silently, quietly, gleefully. When life erupts around me or tu...
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(Arid means dry; without rain) ONCE more into my arid days like dew, Like wind from an oasis, or the sound Of cold sweet water bubbling unde...
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"I hate the way you talk to me And the way you cut your hair I hate the way you drive my car I hate it when you stare I hate your bi...
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You are the secret my heart holds silently, quietly, gleefully. When life erupts around me or tu...
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