[net.poems] poetry

jayasim@uiucdcsb.UUCP (02/12/85)

			Poetry

	When the sounds are right
	And there are words,
	And the heart- malice free,
	With a tinge of love and melancholy,
	And the mind ain't thinkin' o' business,
	-business of any sorts-

	If the will of the soul be,
	Poetry is made.


				D.N.Jayasimha


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sara@mhuxj.UUCP (TRIGS) (02/02/86)

*** REPLACE THIS LINE WITH YOUR MESSAGE ***
"Lines for Gregory"
Boy and baseball, butterfly and blue sky
contrive together to knit their summer day,
laughter racing over the sloping lawn,
baseball looping into the blue, row on row,
hour upon hour. Somewhere in the distance
a flute is being played. Its soft notes
weave, ghostly, a melody among the trees.
Overhead, planes are being tossed somewhere
important-- places like Chicago and L.A.
again and again. No one watches; or perhaps
only some adult waiting to tell us we can't play,
curious, as when we watch the butterfly
bright orange with purple specks, beautiful
and helpless, buffeted by whatever wind is near.
by Jeffery Alan Triggs