Leonora Speyer Poems
|1.||A Note From The Pipes||1/4/2003|
|2.||April On The Battlefields||1/4/2003|
|3.||Crickets At Dawn||4/22/2010|
|4.||Sekhmet The Lion-Hearted||4/22/2010|
I am afraid to go into the woods,
I fear the trees and their mad, green moods.
I fear the breezes that pull at my sleeves,
The creeping arbutus beneath the leaves,
And the brook that mocks me with wild, wet words:
I stumble and fall at the voice of birds.
Think of the terror of those swift showers,
Think of the meadows of fierce-eyed flowers:
And the little things with sudden wings
That buzz about me and dash and dart,
And the lilac waiting to break my heart!
Winter, hide me in your kind snow,
I am a coward, a coward, I know!