Стихи и рассказы из категории kind

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Be the mistress of my choice,
Clean in manners, clear in voice;
Be she witty, more than wise,
Pure enough, though not precise;
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My child, we were just children,
Two happy kids, that’s all:
We crept into the henhouse,
And hid there in the straw
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She sleeps on soft, last breaths; but no ghost
Out of the stillness of her palace wall,
Her wall of boys on boys and dooms on dooms
She dreams of golden gardens and sweet glooms,
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What Kind of Times Are
Adrienne
There’s a place between two stands of trees where the grass grows uphilland the old revolutionary road breaks off into shadowsnear a meeting-house abandoned by the persecutedwho disappeared into those shad...
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Thou art more kind than mother dear,
More soothing than the rays of
Thy love an ever flowing tide,
Sinks deeper than a common streamI know of none that equals Thee -Thou best of all immortal GodsI wave my name above Thy head,
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"What kind of a person are you," I heard them say to me
I'm a person with a complex plumbing of the soul,
Sophisticated instruments of feeling and a
Of controlled memory at the end of the twentieth century,
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