Arthur Bayldon Poems
|3.||An Old Bush Road||1/4/2003|
|4.||A Woman's Mood||1/4/2003|
|9.||The Dead Poet||3/19/2012|
|11.||To America In 1915||5/12/2012|
|12.||Why I Am Poor||5/12/2012|
These vessels of verse, O Great Goddess, are filled with invisible tears,
With the sobs and sweat of my spirit and her desolate brooding for years;
See, I lay them -- not on thine altar, for they are unpolished and plain,
Not rounded enough by the potter, too much burnt in the furnace of pain;
But here in the dust, in the shadow, with a sudden wild leap of the heart
I kneel to tenderly kiss them, then in silence arise to depart.
I linger awhile at the portal with the light of the crimsoning sun
On my wreathless brow bearing the badges of battles I've fought in ...