ARRIVAL By William Carlos Williams * * * And yet one arrives somehow, finds himself loosening the hooks of her dress in a strange bedroom - feels the autumn dropping its silk and linen leaves about her ankles. The tawdry veined body emerges twisted upon itself like a winter wind…! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ LOVE POEM By Audre Lorde * * * Speak Earth and bless me with what is richest. Make sky flow honey out of my hips. Rigis mountains spread over a valley. Carved out by the mouth of rain. And I knew when I entered her I was high wind in her forests hollow. Fingers whispering sound. Honey flowed from the split cup. Impaled on a lance of tongues on the tips of her breasts on her navel and my breath. Howling into her entrances through lungs of pain. Greedy as herring-gulls or a child. I swing out over the Earth over and over again. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ DELIGHT IN DISORDER By Robert Herrick * * * A sweet disorder in the dress. Kindles in clothes a wantonness. A lawn about the shoulders thrown into a fine distraction. An erring lace, which here and there enthrals the crimson stomacher. A cuff neglectful, and thereby ribands to flow confusedly. A winning wave, deserving note, in the tempestuous petticoat. A careless shoe-string, in whose tie I see a wild civility: do more bewitch me, than when art is too precise in every part. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ PUTTING IN THE SEED By Robert Frost * * * You come to fetch me from my work tonight when supper’s on the table, and we’ll see if I can leave off burying the white soft petals fallen from the apple tree. (Soft petals, yes, but not so barren quite, mingled with these, smooth bean and wrinkled pea); And go along with you ere you lose sight of what you came for and become like me, slave to a springtime passion for the Earth. How love burns through the Putting in the Seed on through the watching for that early birth. When, just as the soil tarnishes with weed, the sturdy seedling with arched body comes shouldering its way and shedding the earth crumbs. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ THE WANTING By Mark Strand * * * It is not the thing we love that keeps us from loving, but the wanting of it, and for that we need time.