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Posts Tagged ‘cedars’

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From where I sit, the wind is getting shrill.
But that is strange, because I look outside
And see the cedars sitting somewhat still,
Their quiet demeanor almost dignified.

Ah! there it is again, a whistle, howl.
My glance is quick; perhaps the cedars move,
But not so much to justify the growl.
The sight I see does not the noise prove.

I put the two together, keep my eyes
Upon the cedar tops thrust up like spears.
A gust then flattens them, to my surprise,
While from the chimney, wind howls for my ears.

Our senses and good sources, hand in hand,
Or ear and eye, join so we understand.


© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2018.

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You and I, and that night, with its perfume and glory! –
The scent of the locusts – the light of the moon;
And the violin weaving the waltzers a story,
Enmeshing their feet in the weft of the tune,
……Till their shadows uncertain
……Reeled round on the curtain,
While under the trellis we drank in the June.

Soaked through the midnight the cedars were sleeping,
Their shadowy tresses outlined in the bright
Crystal, moon-smitten mists, where the fountain’s heart, leaping
Forever, forever burst, full with delight;
……And its lisp on my spirit
……Fell faint as that near it
Whose love like a lily boomed out in the night.

O your glove was an odorous sachet of blisses!
The breath of your fan was a breeze from Cathay!
And the rose at your throat was nest of spilled kisses! –
And the music! – in fancy I hear it today,
……As I sit here, confessing
……Our secret, and blessing
My rival who found us, and waltzed you away.

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