The Hum of the Fan (Raymond A. Foss Poem)
All is quiet in the house, girls asleep, slowing down the only sound my fingers clicking these words the purr ...
All is quiet in the house, girls asleep, slowing down the only sound my fingers clicking these words the purr ...
They are all so different, so different, age, history, fate's pull on their lives their place in the world they ...
Pain spoke an audible gasp in the congregation at the sudden news of your recent passing a body giving in ...
I will always feel the ache of our parting and the balm of our joining DRAFT 12/13/05 18:05, written in ...
I see the pain on their face The water all over the place It is terrible to see I ache ...
In Spanish he whispers there is no time left. It is the sound of scythes arcing in wheat, the ache ...
Love at the lips was touch As sweet as I could bear; And once that seemed too much; I lived ...
My long two-pointed ladder's sticking through a tree Toward heaven still, And there's a barrel that I didn't fill Beside ...
You see I cannot see -- your lifetime -- I must guess -- How many times it ache for me ...
She dealt her pretty words like Blades -- How glittering they shone -- And every One unbared a Nerve Or ...
Bound -- a trouble -- And lives can bear it! Limit -- how deep a bleeding go! So -- many ...
'Twas warm -- at first -- like Us -- Until there crept upon A Chill -- like frost upon a ...
It is easy to work when the soul is at play -- But when the soul is in pain -- ...
I like the old house tolerably well, Where I must dwell Like a familiar gnome; And yet I never shall ...
Here lies, whom hound did ne'er pursue, Nor swiftewd greyhound follow, Whose foot ne'er tainted morning dew, Nor ear heard ...
(Isaiah, lvii.15) The Lord will happiness divine On contrite hearts bestow; Then tell me, gracious God, is mine A contrite ...
I How should I seek to make a song for thee When all my music is to moan thy name? ...
I How should I seek to make a song for thee When all my music is to moan thy name? ...
Well my friends are gone and my hair is grey I ache in the places where I used to play ...
Beneath the blaze of a tropical sun the mountain peaks are the Thrones of Frost, through the absence of objects ...
Of late, in one of those most weary hours, When life seems emptied of all genial powers, A dready ...
The whole idea of it makes me feel like I'm coming down with something, something worse than any stomach ache ...
Pruning the rosebush the ache of the summer heat on my shoulders, the feel of the living stalk between fingers, ...
Golden haired and golden hearted I would ever have you be, As you were when last we parted Smiling slow ...
1 They that in play can do the thing they would, Having an instinct throned in reason's place, --And every ...
The grey gulls drift across the bay Softly and still as flakes of snow Against the thinning fog. All day ...
"Oh yes, I went over to Edmonstoun the other day and saw Johnny, mooning around as usual! He will never ...
THE HUNCHBACK TROUT The creek was made narrow by little green trees that grew too close together. The creek was ...
He does not live here but it is the god. A priest tools in a top his motorbike. You do ...
"Thou thoughtest that I was altogether such a one as thyself." (David, Psalms 50.21) ['Will sprawl, now that the heat ...
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