love poetry chat

i saw the clouds among the hills
all within and all without me
in their ragged regimentals
those on the top say they know you, earth-they are liars
for these white arms about my neck
this ancient silver bowl of mine
she might have known it in the earlier spring
dear wife
my soul goes clad in gorgeous things
sun stepped down from his golden throne
the single clenched fist lifted and ready
better than granite
rocked in the cradle of the deep
there by the window in the old house