Click here to add this poet to your My Favorite Poets.
Fernella Smythe Poems
An Ode to My Love?
I search vainly for the words to describe my beloved I look to childhood friends, masters of verse and prose Yet I return empty-handed The bards do not have the words
Fear paralyses my body Fear strangles my dreams Fear freezes my soul Fear hurts my heart
Now I’m alone, Now I’m fantasizing about the future Now I’m reliving the past Now I’m strategizing, scheming
I Am In Love
I was inviolate I was proud I was sanctimonious I was above the clouds
Now You Are Six
Now you six (With apologies to A.A. Milne) Now you are six A man reborn
He’s afraid of my tempestuous feelings, My fears, my groans, my sighs How can I make him see? He’s the only human outlet I have left?
On Seeing M's Photo
It was you yet not you A man unknown to me In the flesh of a man loved Unaltered by my judgements & emotions
A Day on the Futon
A day on the futon I’m sick I’m crampy I’m nauseous
He’s concerned about my emotions He has plateaued, whatever that means What happens after you plateau? Don’t you descend?
I live alone Sometimes by choice
He Cut Me Off
He cut me off He cut me stone dead off He cut the line He cut my heart out
My love is hidden from me I am separated from my own heart How can I feel so deeply? How can these feelings sneak up on me?
Comments about Fernella Smythe
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
An Ode to My Love?
I search vainly for the words to describe my beloved
I look to childhood friends, masters of verse and prose
Yet I return empty-handed
The bards do not have the words
Shakespeare has too many these and thous
Keats waxes too antique
Byronic swoon are overdone
Neruda is lost in translation
Barrett Browning is too fawning
And as for the modern giants
Their free verse monoliths freeze me to the bone
How can I describe my love for you?
When love’s still a mystery to me?
I sense what it is not but I see darkly what it is
The goal posts move position every ...