Some Poems from Old Times

1957

Stages of Life--

Why should I grow old and gray

The twilight at the close of day

The rose, full-blown, that falls away

To due-damped grass, and there decay

Rather than the early morn

When the sun is being born?

Stay, O stay, eternal spring

And let me dance 'round the fairies ring 😁

 

I don't drink beer

I don't drink wine

But ply me with chocolate

And I am thine  

2019 

 

                                                                                                                                                                                     There's no safe port in a thunderstorm

No sheltered cove my craft can gain

No mother's arms to keep me warm

And hide me from the pelting rain

 

No tranquil bay to moor the night,

No overgrowth of reed and cane,

No lover's arms to hold me tight

To keep me from the throbbing pain

 

No hope of respite from the sky

No harbor from my tiny boat

No one to hear my desperate cy

And keep my sinking boat afloat . . . .