Poetry Archives

Then he would bring her books, and read to her
 The poems of Dr. Donne, and the blue river
Would murmur through the reading, and a stir
 Of birds and bees make the white petals shiver,
And one or two would flutter prone and lie
 Spotting the smooth-clipped grass.  The days went by
    Threaded with talk and verses.  Green leaves pushed
 Through blossoms stubbornly.
Gervase, unconscious of dishonesty,
Fell into strong and watchful loving, free
    He thought, since always would his lips be hushed.