Poems

Poem

There is a place (believe me,

            she said) where if, if

Poem

The night was as dark as an ink well,
For the moon had gone visiting elsewhere,
But by the scuffling sounds around me,
I knew there was someone there.

Poem

Spring is baby,
bright, fresh and new,
gurgling with the melting snow,
singing with the first cuckoo.

Give The Ball to the Poet
Poem

We don' have a Springtime like some folk
Who live in dem colder place,
but we have a time when de soft rain come,
an' tease open de seedcase
o' de poincianna and de trumpet tree,

Red Cherry Red
Poem

I spied a small lonely boy.
I was his beautiful red balloon,
from morning through to noon,