English | Spanish | French | German | Portuguese| Italian

thanksgiving poem

good woman
were it not for that singular smell
dear wife
sun stepped down from his golden throne
glooms of the live-oaks
love me at last, or if you will not
why then, must we see?
and my name is truthful
beside a stricken field
shades of night were falling fast
backward, turn backward
i walk down the garden paths

 



Poetry news via Google, MSN, and Yahoo!

  • Art, music, gossip - it's (virtually) all there in my parallel ... - guardian.co.uk
  • No sensible British shoes for this rebel fashionista (Toronto Star)
  • Work to start on blind activity centre - Evening News Norwich
  • From Ballasts to Ballads: Fishermen Take to the Stage - Forbes
  • Indianapolis couple tie the knot in California (The Indianapolis Star)
  • Ghana Pays Last Respect To Baah-Wiredu - Peace fm Online
  • Phoebe Snow's success comes after great sorrow - San Francisco Chronicle
  • Prime Time Calendar the week of Sept. 8, 2008 (Independent Press)
  • Bishop and Lowell's 'love' letters - Monsters and Critics
  • Waterstone's defend decision to cancel gay author event - PinkNews.co.uk
  • Manhattan Project: New Staging - Wall Street Journal
  • Patti Smith ends fest fetes on a high note - Toronto Star
  • CULTIVATING HOPE (The Telegraph)
  • Cultural center benefit features dragon dance - Pittsburgh Post-Gazette
  • Amazon Art Institute Helps Recover Indigenous Roots - Inter Press Service
 

Get a better Mortgage Rate today and save!

Get your Online Degrees today!

Poetry | Contact Us | Educational Resources | Vote For This Poem | Visitor Favorites

Summer School Help Beginner Math Physics Primer Chemistry Primer Intro Psychology English Primer
Intro Grammar Beginner Writing American History American Civil War Intro Biology Composition Help


Check out El-Grande Web Directory today!


www.endlesspoetry.com ©Copyright 2004 - 2007 Michael VanDeMar All Rights Reserved