William Brendan McPhillips
William Brendan McPhillips Poems
It often happens April will not bring
The kind of end to Winter we call Spring.
We look for buds to burst the bond of sleep
And strain to hear the pond frog peepers peep.
...
At last I know how hard I tried
To keep the joy of love denied
From undermining all I built
In mounds of words and mounds of guilt;
...
And now the stuff about the heart I thought,
The abstract stuff we tout, emote, and feel,
Seems somehow out of tune with tubing brought
From groin arterially through the seal
...
A leaf alone, in Autumn moon and night,
In Winter turns to lantern, golden light;
A group of gulls in gossip, fog and ear,
Can rob the mind of solitude and fear;
...
The Best Poem Of William Brendan McPhillips
April Snows
It often happens April will not bring
The kind of end to Winter we call Spring.
We look for buds to burst the bond of sleep
And strain to hear the pond frog peepers peep.
The signs are there, the sudden yellow splash
Of optimism in the daily dash;
The purple, blue of crocus near a tree,
To simulate the coming Summer spree;
And still enough of Winter will not go
To set us free of gloves and hat and snow.
It is the human wanting sets the pace
Of Winter, Spring and Summer, that we trace
On calendars as if the world was but
Some human purpose meant to pose and strut.
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5/5/2024 7:00:08 AM # 1.0.0.1119
