December 0

Blog Archive

Thu, 24.09.2009

SONNETS by Gwendolyn Bennett.

He came in silvern armour, trimmed with black-A lover come from legends long ago-With silver spurs and silken plumes a-blow,
And flashing sword caught fast and buckled back In a craven sheath of Tamarack.
He came with footsteps beautifully slow, And spoke in voice meticulously low.
He came and romance followed his track….

I did not ask his name-I thought him Love; I did not care to see his hidden face.
All life seemed born in my intaken breath; All thought seemed flown like some forgotten dove.

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Poetry Corner

Your door is shut against my tightened face, And I am sharp as steel with discontent; But I possess the courage and the grace To bear my anger proudly... THE WHITE HOUSE by Claude McKay.
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