Simplicity, humilityAre the thoughts that most appeal to meAt the threshold of a window ledge Yet all my dreams are feveredMy thoughts all cantileveredStill against the bitter end I hedge And I’m quite good with hedges ©1902, ThaumatropeMind. All rights reserved.
The storm has raged and seethed and sungAnd rent the air and left undone The knots that tie both time and tideWith niceties now cast aside-like pauper's clothes Bruised, spent and fragrant loversLinger rapt in sweet repose ©1902, ThaumatropeMind. All rights reserved.
Death awaits at journey’s endA silent half-thought sentence Waylaid, suspended in mid-airFloating neither up nor down, just there With care I would attend the words wrought for that closing phraseSo many drafts, how densely filled, that final august page How tedious, how tiresome, the bleak unmetered textIn vain anticipation of some good that must come [...]
As everThe things we doThe things we makeThe things we sayWill in time be rustedWorn and washed away Our dreams and cares will passOur arms and handsAnd legs and feetOur brains and heartsNo more or less than trees and leaves and grassWill die and fade The sun will set at last © 1902, ThaumatropeMind. All [...]