wordhoard

  Paolo Quaresima Ode To Clothing    Each morning you’re waiting My clothing, on a chair For me to fill you With my vanity, my love My h...

    Dmitry Sysoev The Enkindled Spring    This spring as it comes bursts up in bonfires green, Wild puffing of green-fire trees, and flame-g...

    John Wainwright Another Spring   If I might see another Spring, I’d not plant summer flowers and wait: I’d have my crocuses at once, ...

James McBey The Beast in the Space Shut up. Shut up. There’s nobody here. If you think you hear somebody knocking On the other s...

Kobayashi Kiyochika Eleven horsemen riding through a night Of swirling snow: none looks to left or right. Shiki fr. A Net of Fireflie...

    Robert Strong Woodward     Ice   Her house is armed to the teeth. Icicles bristle above my head as I shiver at her door. One lackadaisic...

          The Nativity   Unfold thy face, unmaske thy ray, Shine forth, bright Sunne, double the day. Let no malignant misty fume, Nor ...