Robert Graves Jr
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Robert Graves Jr Poems
I spied her, hot and spicy, And wondered of my fate. This all could be quite dicey; Was too much on my plate?
Cloistered inside these walls, They were here to do God's work, Expiate their sins.
Life happens so quickly, it seems, That what was could be what one dreams. A snapshot is proof of something that was, But do we feel its touch because
Celebrating my 60th year, Amidst the balloons and kids, Grand kids, friends, neighbors, Cake and ice cream,
I read that he was sixty-two- so young! I recall when I had first heard the news, Long before my years touched his. I had absolved an old man then,
It's all there in the book, Spelled out page by page, Chapter after chapter- That first ignition by hot glance,
A Tear For Tim Treadwell
Clutching his teddy bear, He entered the dark woods, Determined to show them That he was a grownup.
He turned away from his lifeless prey- It had been so different last night, Vital, animated, her scent Stirring his primal sap.
I And Poetry
Rhythm, rhyme and me, Mystic trinity- Words march perfectly, End in harmony.
Comments about Robert Graves Jr
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
I spied her, hot and spicy,
And wondered of my fate.
This all could be quite dicey;
Was too much on my plate?
Her scent intoxicated me,
I cast caution to the sky
And pulled her close to see
If there was reason why
I had this strange desire.
And as my lips came close,
I could taste her fire.
I pondered what I chose.
It seems my love for her
Did not reciprocate-
The lesson, as it were,
Is that I over-ate!