Gregory Wm. Gunn Poems

I feel as rich as Croesus
while watching gold of day
dispel amid white cypress;
its final sheen's display.
...

I rediscovered you tonight
after a lengthy absence,
flourishing on the threshold
of a clover leaf,
...

She's just a perfect angel
beneath the scarlet comforter,
her spirit distantly drifting
astral parterres in dream districts;
...

Despair nipped at our hearts,
we the blue children
of the growing season, long green stalks rising
in savoury fields.
...

When I have returned to dust,
recall me, but not the genuine me;
no, leave that shrinking, purple-
prosing violet be. Instead visit
...

Your requiem is rising
from a wailing sea.
It blends among inconsolable
gull cries, beyond
...

At Chronos' raised browed
forelock, there won't and can't
be any detachment, no turning
back now, no, none whatsoever
...

I


Supposing
...

Certain repressed gods,
compelled to shed shade
over humanity's visions,
forecast the end of the world
...

White doves and stormy petrels
light upon the living room walls,
in robust compatibility,
teaching odd wedded rituals,
...