Fay Slimm Poems
A Pure Love.
As the snowdropp sea of glistening white
Envelopes and amazes me, I, standing
Here in a woodland clearing think of mighty
Love. This waving scene of purity hangs
It's every head of gleam shyly downward
In a modest pose, but lift each face and
Look at love so pure it takes us forward
In accepting states of grace that random
Fate never planned, but rather Godly love
Created. They glow with light, and scented
Subtly, are as fresh as dawn. Just above
This ocean of delight hangs, relentless,
January sky which now threatens rain.
Pure love is snowdropp white ...
Placid Sunday Morn.
Lying amid grass of perfumed green,
Cushioned with sun and calm of early morn,
From verdant lanes echo aloft the sound of the bell
Bidding me attend it s evocative toll
What solitary same sound has winged in byegone days
And fetched the faithful, young and old, to morning dues
It s sad and mournful clang, it s long and lonely call
Evokes a realm of pastness gone now and yet