Why art thou silent! Is thy love a plantOf such weak fibre that the treacherous airOf absence withers what was once so fair?Is there no debt to pay, no boon to grant?Yet have my thoughts for thee been vigilantBound to thy service with unceasing care,The mind's least generous wish a mendicantFor nought but what thy happiness could spare.Speak though this soft warm heart, once … [Read more...] about Sonnets – IV. – Why Art Thou Silent! Is Thy Love A Plant, By: William Wordsworth
Boundless, By: Nova Po
Spiraling in the bore ofmortality of lucid dreamsand you’reencapsulated bymy servitudebut trapped toflesh and bones.Me as your allured capture blissfully oblivious to my demise.A willing participant in your hypnoticand tantalizing whirl I’d rather decayto your rhythmic slumber.Your satirical and devious nature hasa gravitational pull on my soul completelyblurring my … [Read more...] about Boundless, By: Nova Po
Sonnets – III. – St. Catherine Of Ledbury, By: William Wordsworth
When human touch (as monkish books attest)Nor was applied nor could be, Ledbury bellsBroke forth in concert flung adown the dells,And upward, high as Malvern's cloudy crest;Sweet tones, and caught by a noble Lady blestTo rapture! Mabel listened at the sideOf her loved mistress: soon the music died,And Catherine said, "Here I set up my rest."Warned in a dream, the Wanderer long … [Read more...] about Sonnets – III. – St. Catherine Of Ledbury, By: William Wordsworth
Upgraded, By: Snigdha Agrawal
That day when you saidwith a scowlI looked bedraggledthat I had let myself goI made up my mindto get my act togethergive me a complete makeoversuch that you wouldfind nothing to sayat my upgraded selfequipped with a sharper intellect to put you in placeI wonyou lostin the game of whois better than thou albeit still lookingbedraggled … [Read more...] about Upgraded, By: Snigdha Agrawal
Sonnets – II. – Roman Antiquities Discovered At Bishopstone, Herefordshire, By: William Wordsworth
While poring Antiquarians search the groundUpturned with curious pains, the Bard, a Seer,Takes fire: The men that have been reappear;Romans for travel girt, for business gowned;And some recline on couches, myrtle-crowned,In festal glee: why not? For fresh and clear,As if its hues were of the passing year,Dawns this time-buried pavement. From that moundHoards may come forth of … [Read more...] about Sonnets – II. – Roman Antiquities Discovered At Bishopstone, Herefordshire, By: William Wordsworth