SONNET FROM A VERSE
That you are gone is neither grief nor pain But like the even dropping of the rain,
Where the sun for an interlude has shown, Where the seed for a space in time has grown; That you speak no more is not like a grave To weep upon but a receding wave
In the vessel's wake, broken on the shore, When the rise and the falling are no more. In the ghost of your step upon the stair, It is to find no slightest shadow there. That you are gone is like the nameless void, The silence, when a city is destroyed, For in this there is neither grief nor pain: It is the wide waste that has come again.
14
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Jaime Stewart
LOVE'S CARAVAN
Over the sands of passi on
Bourne by vehement desire,
Over the dunes of longing
Flaming like molten fire;
Past a mirage of beauty
Scintillating with rainbow gleams, On through my yearning's desert, Trails my caravan of dreams.
Sandstorms of opposition
Spend their wrath throughout the night,
As onward plodding camels
Trudge until the dawning's light.
Burned by simoons of desert,
Blown from blazing hells afar,
Cooled by the breath of evening,
Guided by a distant star;