poetry form

in halls of sleep you wandered by
a very remarkable history this is
once this soft turf
we break the glass whose sacred wine
their beautiful hair
she has a clear, wind-sheltered loveliness
a poet, having taken the bridle off his tongue
her face is fair and smooth and fine
still thirteen years
i loved a woman
eighty years have passed, and more
gingham dog and the calico cat
simply speaking
what was it the engines said