Hiding in the Edge of the Wood (Raymond A. Foss Poem)
Not the shy deer at the edge of the field the silent old stone wall from an earlier time hiding ...
Not the shy deer at the edge of the field the silent old stone wall from an earlier time hiding ...
The righteous, the leaders in the things that he said their power crumbling as the people came to believe Arousing ...
These leaders, of the people blind to their own faith if they would have but seen so different would that ...
The snap of the branches underfoot watching where I walk the path refracting the light the mica reflecting the sun ...
A question, pregnant on our lips the extent of the devastation the cost of the earthquake in that impoverished land ...
With the shaking walls crumbling some that should have held falling in the poverty the ways they were built a ...
More the greed of man the cruel truth of poverty the walls that should have stood crumbling to the ground ...
crumbling barriers walls of stone, lichen, moss out in the forest October 27, 2009 (Raymond A. Foss)
Smooth glass, clear, or in the prism's spectrum Cool of polished marble in Washington's monuments smooth of a baby's skin, ...
WE don't torture, once a clear mantra, creed truth about our nation what we would never do No more, no ...
Glacial faces before the calving the granite ledges, bedrock framing the highway, interstate plates and layers, uplifted imperceptibly crumbling over ...
Buckets and buckets of sap, culled from willing maples pouring into the vat the cauldron atop the old, crumbling outdoor ...
A famous Greek, a playwright of the Gods a name from my scholastic memory, my past now on my computer ...
From Harmony, from heavenly Harmony This universal frame began: When nature underneath a heap Of jarring atoms lay And could ...
When Stiivoren town was in its prime And queened the Zuyder Zee, Its ships went out to every clime With ...
How firm Eternity must look To crumbling men like me The only Adamant Estate In all Identity -- How mighty ...
I Years had been from Home And now before the Door I dared not enter, lest a Face I never ...
Crumbling is not an instant's Act A fundamental pause Dilapidation's processes Are organized Decays. 'Tis first a Cobweb on the ...
In ash-fine silt that spread like sand after the flood and before the wild weeds claimed the old stream bed; ...
It was a brave day under an endlessly clear sky that extended forever from our valley to the unfathomably distant ...
The strident sounds of silence echo in a darkened room, a beggar's tomb of emptied space and barrenness, a shameful ...
I Soul, what art thou in the tribes of the sea? LORD, said a flying fish, Below the foundations of ...
How agreeable it is not to be touring Italy this summer, wandering her cities and ascending her torrid hilltowns. How ...
Mamua, when our laughter ends, And hearts and bodies, brown as white, Are dust about the doors of friends, Or ...
I Lady and Queen and Mystery manifold And very Regent of the untroubled sky, Whom in a dream St. Hilda ...
I. How well I know what I mean to do When the long dark autumn-evenings come: And where, my soul, ...
At low tide like this how sheer the water is. White, crumbling ribs of marl protrude and ...
LEAVE me a little while alone, Here at his grave that still is strown With crumbling flower and wreath; The ...
As evening falls, The walls grow luminous and warm, the walls Tremble and glow with the lives within them moving, ...
Glion?--Ah, twenty years, it cuts All meaning from a name! White houses prank where once were huts. Glion, but not ...
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