Stephanie Street

Stephanie Street Poems

Stephanie Street Biography

I will be more... clamorous than a parrot against rain, more new-fangled than an ape, more giddy in my desires than a monkey: I will weep for nothing, like Diana in the fountain, and I will do that when you are disposed to be merry; I will laugh like a hyen, and that when thou art inclined to sleep... the wiser, the waywarder: make the doors upon a woman's wit and it will out at the casement; shut that and 'twill out at the key-hole; stop that, 'twill fly with the smoke out at the chimney. (As You Like It, IV, i))

The Best Poem Of Stephanie Street

Falling In Leaves

The Experts, in remote wisdom, declare-
This autumn is the finest show
of colours since The Records first began.
I, with not a little fear,
observe (as leaks a burnt vermillion tinge,
bled from my tumbling heart,
to paint the world) the ivy, oak and cedar
are red in love as me.

I drift with trepidation – like a leaf,
seduced by gravity, makes from
a fast-disrobing tree – from quiet oneness
towards the flowing waters of
this seminal embrace. I cannot buck
its vertiginous pull;
It is beyond me, is entrenched within me.
Oh, how it scares the heart!

Are my gifts enough? They may not promise
like the tender, budding flower,
or shine with glory as a summer sun.
My petals are the fingers of
a hand that will enfold his, tease his many-
coloured strands of beard.
My only glory will unravel with
the seasons’ shedding skins.

We are not Spring lovers; not so prosaic
to frolic in dewy, verdant
meadows, or frisk like April lambs among
the banks of fleeting daffodils.
What we can do is crackle like the kindling
on a hearth; he showers me
in fallen leaves, and like a fur I will
cover him from the rains.

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