Pau-Puk-Keewis (Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Poem)
You shall hear how Pau-Puk-Keewis, He, the handsome Yenadizze, Whom the people called the Storm-Fool, Vexed the village with disturbance; ...
You shall hear how Pau-Puk-Keewis, He, the handsome Yenadizze, Whom the people called the Storm-Fool, Vexed the village with disturbance; ...
You shall hear how Pau-Puk-Keewis, How the handsome Yenadizze Danced at Hiawatha's wedding; How the gentle Chibiabos, He the sweetest ...
A serious moment for the water is when it boils And though one usually regards it merely as a convenience ...
I met my mates in the morning (and oh, but I am old!) Where roaring on the ledges the summer ...
When the writing is going well, I am a prince in a desert palace, fountains flowing in the garden. I ...
I lean into you, we bury down in the dunes the breeze holds like a whisper you stroke my brown ...
Like a deep blue wave of passion you shore into the room where I sit waiting quietly, open-booked. We have ...
The green sky over the water rising from the depth beyond the bright horizon far off to the east After ...
Brilliant in white the world encased in wonder dunes white, sky azure January 14, 2011 snowstorm 1/12/2011 Copyright by Raymond ...
Snow ate Wednesday more inches than predicted piled in dunes of white. January 14, 2011 snowstorm 1/12/2011 Copyright by Raymond ...
Preserved, as if still alive under the hard-packed white the drifts, the dunes covering the cars in white Like mammoths ...
Like whales beached on the sand covered in the dunes each car, like an archaeological dig ancient Egypt a treasure ...
Maybe it is the memories the change of pace that brings us there our sense of vacation maybe the smell ...
Within our houses the world around shut down nature bringing forth its wrath we are hunkered down the snow piling ...
Cold, falling down, from the snow banks, still too high rimming the lot, cold, palpable like a wave, like a ...
The snow, blowing, drifting stinging my face, the swirls bringing my throw, shovelful, back at me laughing, smiling to myself ...
Dunes of white greet my gaze from my office window snow drifted in the lee of the third story, the ...
Maybe it is the memories the change of pace that brings us there the sense of vacation maybe the smell ...
We chanced in passing by that afternoon To catch it in a sort of special picture Among tar-banded ancient cherry ...
Memory: I can take my head and strike it on a wall on Cumberland Island Where the night tide came ...
What scene would I want to be enveloped in more than this one, an ordinary night at the kitchen table, ...
For John Malcolm Brinnin and Bill Read: Duxbury It was cold and windy, scarcely the day to take a walk ...
As a girl, she hated the grain of anything on her fins. Now she is part fire ant, part centipede. ...
No, I shall not say why it is that I love you- Why do you ask me, save for vanity? ...
As evening falls, The walls grow luminous and warm, the walls Tremble and glow with the lives within them moving, ...
1 Senlin sat before us and we heard him. He smoked his pipe before us and we saw him. Was ...
So I said I am Ezra and the wind whipped my throat gaming for the sounds of my voice I ...
(1) This is the sea, then, this great abeyance. How the sun's poultice draws on my inflammation. Electrifyingly-colored sherbets, scooped ...
A pale enchanted moon is sinking low Behind the dunes that fringe the shadowy lea, And there is haunted starlight ...
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