Three Poetesses * Poem by james watkin

My love for them
Bold as a bouquet for each!
Who asks the presumption of
Devout life be forgiven
In rhymes, to which I fasten!
For I am used to beseech
With such good taste
Sachets of beauteous thought;
Filled and tied with sovereign care;
Vials, of cleansing visions, wrought.

Sad as they are
By each shy wink was drawn in!
Of our circle's sensitive
And timeless implication
Tis that child-like provision
Aside I'll mean not to fling;
Nor to step out.
Where all is a boast's echo
Up from the earth's lowest parts
Shatters an angel to know.

*Emily dickinson
Mary coleridge
Sara teasdale