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James K's blog: "Poems"

created on 09/21/2006  |  http://fubar.com/poems/b4922

The Unknown

She is most fair, And when they see her pass The poets' ladies Look no more in the glass But after her. On a bleak moor Running under the moon She lures a poet, Once proud or happy, soon Far from his door. Beside a train, Because they saw her go, Or failed to see her, Travelers and watchers know Another pain. The simple lack Of her is more to me Than others presence, Whether life splendid be Or utter black. I have not seen, I have no news of her; I can tell only She is not here, but there She might have been. She is to be kissed Only perhaps by me; She may be seeking Me and no other; she May not exist.

NO ONE SO MUCH AS YOU

No one so much as you Loves this my clay, Or would lament as you Its dying day. You know me through and through Though I have not told, And though with what you know You are not bold. None ever was so fair As I thought you: Not a word can I bear Spoken against you. All that I ever did For you seemed coarse Compared with what I hid Nor put in force. My eyes scarece dare meet you Lest they should prove I but respond to you And do not love. We look and understand, We cannot speak Except in trifles and Words the mopst weak. For I at most accept Your love, regreting THat is all: I have kept Only a fretting That I could noyt return All that you gave And could not ever burn With the love you have, Till someit did seem Better it were Never to see you more Than linger here With only gratitude Instead of love--- A pine in solitude Cradling a dove.

I HID MY LOVE

I hid my love when I was still young Couldn't bear the buzzing of a fly; I hid my love to my despite Till I could not bear to look at the light: I dare not gaze upon her face But left her memory in each place; Where're I saw a wild flower lie I kissed and bade my love good-bye. I met her in the greenest of dells, Where dewdrops pearl the wood bluebells; The lost breeze kissed her bright blue eye, The bee kissed and went singing by, A sunbeam found a passage there, A gold chain round her neck so fair; As secret as the wild bee's song She lay there all the summer long. I hid my love in field and town Till e'een the breeze would knock me down; The bees seemed singing ballads o'er The fly's bass turned to a lios roar; And even silence found a tongue, To haunt me all the summer long; The riddle nature could not prove Was nothing else but secret love.
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