The Poetry Of.
Harold Lorin...............................................
The Bird
My love now struggles with a broken wing
I watch her patient healing
Calm brave and beautiful
As ever
She smiles at me
Then turns back to nurse her wound
Voyage
Ah what a magic voyage we have had
A marvelous adventure across the seas and skies
And in our garden and our bed
And on our magic sailing boat
Which bears the soul and name
Of our dear though timid friend.
It has been a magic set of days when
Mornings brought the sun above the pond
To clear the mist from which we wake and
Evenings when the slowly sinking sun
Has lit the buildings of our holy city.
We have swum in Asiatic seas
And driven furtively across an ancient town
There is no god whose shrine we have not seen
There is no language that we have not heard
Within the sounds of our trios and quartets.
It has been a magic conversation
Of works and days and hopes
And disappointments
As our hands hold our hands more tightly
And our hair turned gray.
The Wave
Oh little darling
Smaller than the wave
At the edge of the sunny sea.
Jump now. Jump. Jump in.
See it shine your skin
In a moment
The tide will rise
The sun will set
The beach will empty.
