Friday, May 7, 2010

Susanna Lay ...


In the green water, clear and warm
Susanna lay.
She searched
The touch of springs,
And found
Concealed imaginings.
She sighed,
For so much melody.

Upon the bank, she stood
In the cool
Of spent emotions.
She felt, among the leaves.
The dew
Of old devotions.

She walked upon the grass,
Still quavering.
The winds were like her maids,
On timid feet,
Fetching her woven scarves,
Yet wavering.

A breath upon her hand
Muted the night.
She turned -
A cymbal crashed,
And roaring horns.

[Peter Quince at the Clavier]
Written by Wallace Stevens


  1. Hey Cynthia, you really have a nice blog ! :)

    Hope to see you in my blog too -

  2. Hello Romeo, thank you. I will visit your
    blog soon.

  3. Nice blog. There is one suggestion. Can you please change the background colour of your blog. It is way too bright and is almost blinding.

  4. Hi Shas, hmmm...okay, if you promise to return.