My love we haven’t danced or linked arms
Like those leafless apple trees in the orchard.
Not for a while have we rolled in the weir…
Ankle to ankle, souls, bobbing naked inward-
Drowning – 'need no air-bubbles' - we’re -
In no rush, inertia has no more – alarms.
For us… around the corner spring is waking.
As for the moment; its icy dark waters—
Rolling; over boulders, yearningly in circles…
Only tantalize the fires, in our closed quarters.
In truth we have tasted all their musk tendrils...
...Of flower, and ivy bough, lovingly, bursting.
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(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
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- Daffodils, William Wordsworth
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- Fire and Ice, Robert Frost
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- All the World's a Stage, William Shakespeare