In poetry of lines equate The history of time and date And do describe ten thousand grave But words alone can not be-rave A hemisphere of buried dead Of crumpled life and words unsaid
Introduction “Flooded gates Of years gone past Have left a score Of those aghast In harbor shores I trim my sail But I decide I cannot whale I cannot go The ocean vast
My funny valentine Are you truly mine? It’s more then Cupid’s arrow Has wounded you this time We’ve taken now a course That casts us in remorse ‘Or never was a place for us
Artery severed From the mother Who tore it? As none other Who ripped it? Asunder Was it you? Was it me? By whose hand and in vain Now blood spills And in pain Silent writhing
Before I go Before I stay I’d like to know I have to say: To let achievement take thy will And each day be that merry still To come home with each day ten courses
