And then it was a misted eye, a thought.
A passing glimpse, a shadowed hall upon
A shadowed hill. I would my peace were brought
In Years, but I am just as restless further on.
I have purple skin for those Knocks that came
As birds do knock. Yellow beaks and plumage bright –
Woe betide my jealous heart, for shame!
I would to get away for just one night.
I look towards the Clouds and sink inside –
There is a firmer future at their feet
Than this curled life that joys to send me weak.
Where is this hallowed Hope of which they speak?
I would its lips would kiss me as its Bride –
Its hands would lift me to that image sweet.
[ Lois describes herself as a “confused english student,” though one quickly finds a polished, charming poet in her work. She has an elegant…
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