John Clare: The Instinct of Hope
Is there another world for this frail dust
To warm with life and be itself again?
John Clare: To John Clare
Well, honest John, how fare you now at home?
John Clare: The Thunder Mutters
The thunder mutters louder & more loud
With quicker motion hay folks ply the rake
Karen Friedland: These Limpid Days
how ridiculously grateful I am now
for whatever divine forces brought me here,
to this very porch, this very summertime
John Clare: Summer
I’ll lean upon her breast and I’ll whisper in her ear
That I cannot get a wink o’sleep for thinking of my dear;
I hunger at my meat and I daily fade away
Like the hedge rose that is broken in the heat of the day.
Dorothy Wordsworth: The moon had the old moon in her arms
The columbine … is a graceful slender creature, a female seeking retirement, and growing freest and most graceful where it is most alone. I observed that the more shaded plants … Continue reading
Joan E. Bauer: Duckweed
In Branchville, New Jersey, home of Bear Swamp, I’m with the Frugal Traveler & to prove I’m no stranger to frugality, I find a $57-a-night special with a bathroom painted … Continue reading
Percy Bysshe Shelley: Stanzas Written in Dejection, Near Naples
The sun is warm, the sky is clear, The waves are dancing fast and bright, Blue isles and snowy mountains wear The purple noon’s transparent might, The breath of the … Continue reading
John Clare: I Am!
I am! yet what I am none cares or knows, My friends forsake me like a memory lost; I am the self-consumer of my woes, They rise and vanish in … Continue reading
John Clare: I Love to See the Summer Beaming Forth
Sonnet I love to see the summer beaming forth And white wool sack clouds sailing to the north I love to see the wild flowers come again And mare blobs … Continue reading