Mine is poetry. Here is my offering:
To laugh at Life
Brings the Grim Reaper
Close to the Jester.
When darkness fell upon the small city,
Every child fled for shelter from the
Terrible, ghostly fog—fog with
Its murders, its sadness and
Its dreary throngs of thoughts.
Here and there could be seen a stubborn
Now and then could be heard a crash
A lone wharf, salty, dark and dreary,
The ever-splashing waves drumming
A slow ghastly death peal,
To those lost in the fog of life
On the edge of a sea of happiness.
|It is the moon. . . .
It glimmers on the forest tips,
And thru the dewy foliage drips
In little rivulets of light,
And makes the heart in love with night.
|Life is like oriental tapestry—
Gaudy hues of happiness
Scattered over a background
Of dark and dreary oblivion.
| A STUDY IN COLOR
A lavender sky . . .
A pink sunset . . .
Then a yellow moon . . .
Blue eyes . . .
Red lips . . . —Jay.
| TO AN ALLEY
A smoldering coal
Dropped in the flight
of progress —Nita.
|THE LADY OF THE GREY ROSES
|In reality like a crimson bud about to burst
A faint, romantic perfume of her loveliness lingers
The memory of her creamy, naked skin,
Her warm, sudden breath—
Her flashing black eyes—pleading—
Her quivering carmine lips—
The incense of love she carries—Grey Roses,
The cooling embers of a passion of the past . . .
Opalescence in the moonlight
Transferring the workshop
To a sunken garden,
Wherein a stream of limpid water
With each drop
Kissed by Pan
Sparkled and rippled.