Two knights rode forth at early dawn

And take these lanes to find the sea, and bendingBreathe the same honeysuckle, low and white.We will come down at night to these resounding beachesAnd the long gentle thunder of the sea,Here for a single hour in the wide starlightWe shall be happy, for the dead are free.Submitted by Venus

The old wild, restless sorrowSteals from its hiding place.My day is barren and broken,Bereft of light and song,A sea beach bleak and windyThat moans the whole day long.To the empty beach at ebb tide,Bare with its rocks and scars,Come back like the sea with singing,And light of a million stars.

The years before I saw your faceGo by me with a wistful grace;They pass, the sensitive shy years,As one who strives to dance, half blind with tears.The years went by and never knewThat each one brought me nearer you;Their path was narrow and apartAnd yet it led me to your heart–Oh sensitive shy years, oh…

In the hazy sunshine, the garden remembers April,The drench of rains and a snow-drop quick and clear as a spark;Daffodils blowing in the cold wind of morning,And golden tulips, goblets holding the rain—The garden will be hushed with snow, forgotten soon, forgotten—After the stillness, will spring come again?

You work no miracle for meNor I for you.You were the wind and I the sea –There is no splendor any more,I have grown listless as the poolBeside the shore.But though the pool is safe from stormAnd from the tide has found surcease,It grows more bitter than the sea,For all its peace.

And that is why this little bookTo David-Boy belongs.