Elizabeth Ten-Hove slows down…
With scarce a sound, it drifts on in lazy bliss,
No such concerns as Time can disturb its rest.
“God gave me leave,” it seems to murmur,
“Quiet to dream in the warmth of the sun.”
And all around, o’ercome by the heat, the world
Sleeps also, and forgets its brisk haste.
Summer is here; we lay down our loads,
Glad now to dream in the warmth of the sun.
Elizabeth Ten-Hove writes,
The world I knew is gone without a trace.
The walls and trees, the paths and where they led—
All’s lost behind a dancing veil of lace.
I crunch along as crystals sting my face;
There’s not a sound besides my noisy tread.
The world I knew is is gone without a trace.
Unsure of where I am, I slow my pace
And vainly search for landmarks up ahead:
All’s lost behind a dancing veil of lace.
Disoriented, lost in swirling space,
I wonder: is this where I’ll lay my head?
The world I knew is gone without a trace.
But I am sure of home in any place:
I never am alone, and need not dread.
All’s lost behind a dancing veil of lace.
I turn around and silently retrace
My wayward steps. How faithfully I’m led!
The world I knew is gone without a trace:
All’s lost behind a dancing veil of lace.
Philip Hilton rhapsodizes,
No millstone girds that swimmer
Just sinking in that swell.
No vicious shark tugs at him,
As his soul departs for — well,
Let’s not be rash.
