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ReadingWillow structured literacy program for Australian students
Poetry Library

— Stephen Crane

I looked here;

I looked there;

Nowhere could I see my love.

And--this time--

…

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noun

(usually a mass noun) Lodging in a dwelling or similar living quarters afforded to travellers in hotels or on cruise ships, or prisoners, etc.

“Writers often choose accommodation when discussing complex ideas.”

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TO O.E.A.

18 lines
Claude McKay·1889–1948·communist
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our voice is the color of a robin’s breast,And there’s a sweet sob in it like rain--still rain in the night.Among the leaves of the trumpet-tree, close to his nest,The pea-dove sings, and each note thrills me with strange delightLike the words, wet with music, that well from your trembling throat.I’m afraid of your eyes, they’re so bold,Searching me through, reading my thoughts, shining like gold.But sometimes they are gentle and soft like the dew onthe lips of the eucharisBefore the sun comes warm with his lover’s kiss.You are sea-foam, pure with the star’s loveliness,Not mortal, a flower, a fairy, too fair for the beauty-shorn earth.All wonderful things, all beautiful things, gave of theirwealth to your birth.Oh I love you so much, not recking of passion, that I feel it is wrong!But men will love you, flower, fairy, non-mortal spiritburdened with flesh,Forever, life-long.
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