Vincent P. Russo, Jr. Poems

In the stillness of morning's early light
Sometimes I waken, and as I might,
Lying there with head propped upon my elbow,
Gaze most fondly at the beauty on your pillow.
...

Came I into the orchard,
There called, I spied the tree,
Unlike, yet like the others
It somehow beckoned me.
...

Nancy's here!
And the big brass bands come parading down the street.
Not with stately marching tempos, but with lively swaying beat.
Nancy's here!
...