Violet Moore and Bert Moore
He thinks her little feet should pass Where dandelions star thickly grass;
Her hands should lift in sunlit air Sea-wind should tangle up her hair.
Green leaves, he says, have never heard A sweeter ragtime mockingbird,
Nor has the moon-man ever seen,
Or man in the spotlight, leering green,
Such a beguiling, smiling queen.
Her eyes, he says, are stars at dusk,
Her mouth as sweet as red-rose musk;
And when she dances his young heart swells With flutes and viols and silver bells;
His brain is dizzy, his senses swim,
When she slants her ragtime eyes at him. . .
Moonlight shadows, he bids her see,
Move no more silently than she.
It was this way, he says, she came,
Into his cold heart, bearing flame.
And now that his heart is all on fire Will she refuse his heart's desire?— And O! has the Moon Man ever seen (Or the spotlight devil, leering green) A sweeter shadow upon a screen?
Conrad Potter Aiken
Other author posts
Improvisations Light And Snow 02
I stood for a long while before the shop Looking at the blue butterflies embroidered on tawny silk The building was a tower before me, Time was loud behind me,
Improvisations Light And Snow 03
The first bell is silver, And breathing darkness I think only of the long scythe of time The second bell is crimson, And I think of a holiday night, with
Exile
These hills are sandy Trees are dwarfed here Caw dismally in skies of an arid brilliance, Complain in dusty pine-trees
The Carver
See, as the carver carves a rose, A wing, a toad, a serpent's eye, In cruel granite, to disclose The soft things that in hardness lie, So this one, taking up his heart,
