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March 1, 2020

The beautiful old soul, like a dying star,

   Burns brighter as it nears its seeming end,

And fills with glorious light, the regions far

   Beyond where fainter rays it once could send;

It grows gigantic, like a god of fire,

   And then explodes in blinding flash...

January 13, 2020

The first true norther came today,
With raging gusts of wind and rain,
And blew the Summer heat away,
And with it all of passion’s pain.

Though others think that sudden chill
A harbinger of loss and death,
I feel a wild, soul-stirring thrill
In bleak November’s first c...

October 28, 2019

In the deep of the night do my restless thoughts roam

   To the moon-flooded fields of the sky,

And they search for a pure and ethereal home,

   Where emotions and thoughts never die.

Where the mountains and valleys of silvery cloud

   Are eternally calling to me,...

July 22, 2019

Long before the first eyes ever saw me

   Floating like a ghost upon the night,

Long before human minds even feebly

   Pierced beyond their dimly shrouded sight,

I was there, though clothed in different raiment,

   Blazing like your own, my brother sun,

Over u...

May 10, 2019

It plays upon the glowing sunset boughs,

   When shadows have enveloped all below,

And distant, other-worldly thoughts arouse

   A passion in the poet’s soul to go

      Beyond the earth, beyond the dark’ning sky,

      Where only unembodied sp...

April 6, 2019

I awoke one day from a dreamlike sleep,

   Not knowing where I was, it seemed,

And lay still as if cast from an ocean deep

   Of obscure and dark things I had dreamed.

And as I lay watching the afternoon light

   As it streamed through the shadow-filled air,


March 1, 2019

Little ones, little ones, playing around me,

   Blowing your bubbles up into the air,

Laughing and giggling to chase them toward me,

   Or when they turn back to alight in your hair;

Watch them float upward above the green treetops,

   Where they are caught by the...

February 23, 2019

This article is republished with permission from the author.

   When John Keats died in Rome on Feb. 23, 1821, at the age of 25, the world lost one of the greatest poetic geniuses it had ever known, and although much of what would undoubtedly have been his greatest work...

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