The beeches are vibrant because there is black in them against the horizon. Hundreds of calla lilies, the sun's fingers nudge the wide-hipped clouds. Here we are summoned into the world: I pass those whom I pleased out of disdain to create, what, a style? And those sulking, coaxed by the beech in full bloom. The bark was written on, names I can't remember. How long is your hair now, how long will it be? Hang discretion and its three-cornered nuts! I love you and vow I'm no longer idle, climbing a long line of beeches like lace. Jane with sunspots; with, almost, grace. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...KEEPING UP WITH THE SIGNS by MADELINE DEFREES LINES WRITTEN IN THE ALBUM AT ELBINGERODE, IN HARTZ FOREST by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE ON MILTON'S PARADISE LOST by ANDREW MARVELL THE TARRY BUCCANEER by JOHN MASEFIELD ODE (MUSIC-MAKERS) by ARTHUR WILLIAM EDGAR O'SHAUGHNESSY THE RUBAIYAT, 1889 EDITION: 19 by OMAR KHAYYAM INSCRIPTIONS: 8 by MARK AKENSIDE A TOMB BY THE SEA by AULUS LICINIUS ARCHIAS EMBLEMS OF LOVE: 22. 'TIS HONOURABLE TO BE LOVE'S MARTYR by PHILIP AYRES |