December 0

Blog Archive

Thu, 24.09.2009

THRENODY by Donald Jeffery Hayes.

Let happy throats be mute;
Only the tortured reed
Is made a flute!

Only the broken heart can sing
And make of song
A breathless and lovely thing!

Only the sad-only the tortured throat
Contrives of sound
A strangely thrilling note!

Only the tortured throat can fling
Beauty against the sky-
Only the broken heart can sing
Not asking why!!!

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New Poem Each Day

Poetry Corner

Pour O pour that parting soul in song, O pour it in the sawdust glow of night. Into the velvet pine-smoke air to-night. And let the valley carry it... SONG OF THE SON by N. Jean Toomer.
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