Is It Poetry
How Can I Refuse
Wave after wave, you hear it come.
Each with their glow and unique.
God under her feet so many are sent.
Too Many round trips, most will buy.
Thistle is plucked and rivers of thistle inside.
Desire rides on wave after wave un reserved.
Moving around it is pulled and it runs away.
Again I hide my face in you, once again.
I would never refuse the moon and each
soft hand, full white that shines, if it I knew.
I will always stand before you and when I do.
Younger is my brother, your sister, I won't refuse.
Then patiently you wait and you know, I will come again.
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(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
(January 6, 1883 – April 10, 1931)
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