Virna Sheard Poems

We are forgetting all the old grey saints,-
A bloom of dust lies on the martyrs' shrines;
From storied windows that the sunlight paints,
We rarely read the dear familiar lines;
...

He will come back across the roads unmeasured-
Lit by old moons and flaming sun and star;
There are so many things he loved and treasured
To call him from afar.
...

October goes, and its colors all pass:
At dawn there's a silver film on the grass,
And the reeds are shining as pipes of glass,
...

On silver nights I cannot sleep;-
The ancient moon from far above,
Bids me arise, and run and keep
A rendezvous with one I love.
...

These were the men of the restless heart;-
The brothers to wind and tide;-
They followed the lure of the far away,
And they saw a vision by night and day,
...

Sing me a song-a song to ease old sorrows,
And dull the edge of care-
A song of Hope to ring through all the morrows
That be my share.
...

The sea is just a cradle wide and deep,-
A cradle that the moon rocks to and fro;
What peace they find who there fall fast asleep,
What lovely dreams,-'Tis not for us to know.
...

Afar in the turbulent city,
In a hive where men make gold,
He stood at his loom from dawn to dark,
While the passing years were told.
...

O my brave heart! O my strong heart! My sweet heart and gay,
The soul of me went with you the hour you marched away,
For surely she is soulless, this woman white, and still,
Who works with shining metal to make the things that kill.
...

The great grey ships! We saw them in our dreaming,
The strong grey ships-the ships of our desire,
Watched by the stars, and by the dawn's white gleaming,
And followed by the winds that never tire.
...