WREN’S SONG

WREN’S SONG

Snow flurries flutter
As winter wrens mutter
In a wood that’s bare
Of little seed to spare
Old man winter’s come
Cold, cold weather’s home
Spring’s horizon dare
Not for all, for some

ODE TO KEATS

ODE TO KEATS

A feverish heart
Of roiling blood
Stains poet’s start
When beauty stood
Where loves abound
What truth be found