John Rhodes Poems

A secret love I had,
A lofty cloud ideal.
A sunny April smile clear
Although it was not real.
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With cheerefull voice we sing to thee,
O Lord, accept our melodie;
For thou in mercy, as we see,
Hast delt with us most louingly,
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by Randall Jarrell
When you look down from the airplane you see lines,
Roads, ruts, braided into a net or web -
Where people go, what people do: the ways of life.
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