Car poems

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Come back to me, little dancing feet that roam the wide world o'er,
I long for the lilt of your flying steps in my silent rooms once more;
Come back to me, little voices gay with laughter and with song,
Come back, little hearts beating high with hopes, I have missed and mourned you long.

The Christmas Night

© Lucy Maud Montgomery

Wrapped was the world in slumber deep,
By seaward valley and cedarn steep,
And bright and blest were the dreams of its sleep;
All the hours of that wonderful night-tide through

The Choice

© Lucy Maud Montgomery

Life, come to me in no pale guise and ashen,
I care not for thee in such placid fashion!
I would share widely, Life,
In all thy joy and strife,
Would sound thy deeps and reach thy highest passion,
With thy delight and with thy suffering rife.

Sunrise Along Shore

© Lucy Maud Montgomery

Athwart the harbor lingers yet
The ashen gleam of breaking day,
And where the guardian cliffs are set
The noiseless shadows steal away;

Shore Twilight

© Lucy Maud Montgomery

Lo, find we here when the ripe day is o'er
A kingdom of enchantment by the shore! Behold the sky with early stars ashine,
A jewelled flagon brimmed with purple wine. Like a dumb poet's soul the troubled sea
Moans of its joy and sorrow wordlessly; But the glad winds that utter naught of grief

Rain along Shore

© Lucy Maud Montgomery

Wan white mists upon the sea,East wind harping mournfullyAll the sunken reefs along,Wail and heart-break in its song,But adown the placid bayFisher-folk keep holiday.

November Evening

© Lucy Maud Montgomery

Come, for the dusk is our own; let us fare forth together,
With a quiet delight in our hearts for the ripe, still, autumn weather,
Through the rustling valley and wood and over the crisping meadow,
Under a high-sprung sky, winnowed of mist and shadow.

Night

© Lucy Maud Montgomery

A pale enchanted moon is sinking low
Behind the dunes that fringe the shadowy lea,
And there is haunted starlight on the flow
Of immemorial sea.

Midnight in Camp

© Lucy Maud Montgomery

Night in the unslumbering forest! From the free,
Vast pinelands by the foot of man untrod,
Blows the wild wind, roaming rejoicingly
This wilderness of God;

In an Old Farmhouse

© Lucy Maud Montgomery

Outside the afterlight's lucent rose
Is smiting the hills and brimming the valleys,
And shadows are stealing across the snows;
From the mystic gloom of the pineland alleys.

For Little Things

© Lucy Maud Montgomery

Last night I looked across the hills
And through an arch of darkling pine
Low-swung against a limpid west
I saw a young moon shine.

Among the Pines

© Lucy Maud Montgomery

Here let us linger at will and delightsomely hearken
Music aeolian of wind in the boughs of pine,
Timbrel of falling waters, sounds all soft and sonorous,
Worshipful litanies sung at a bannered shrine.

A Day Off

© Lucy Maud Montgomery

Let us put awhile away
All the cares of work-a-day,
For a golden time forget,
Task and worry, toil and fret,
Let us take a day to dream
In the meadow by the stream.

Landscapes

© Andree Chedid

Behind faces and gestures
We remain mute
And spoken words heavy
With what we ignore or keep silent
Betray us

The Voice

In what bare tomb must I lie
To summon the voice
That speaks like my soul?

Take This Waltz

(After Lorca)

Now in Vienna there are ten pretty women.
There's a shoulder where death comes to cry.

Market days

© Jonas Mekas

Mondays, way before dawn,
before even the first hint of blue in the windows,
we'd hear it start, off the road past our place,
over on the highway nearby,
in a clatter of market-bound traffic.

Villages and Plains the Streams Flow Through

© Jonas Mekas

to carry on the songs of washerwomen,
fishermen's nets and grey wooden bridges.
Clear blue nights, smelling warm,
streams of thin mist off the meadow drift in
with distinct hoof-stomps from a fettered horse.