IMPRISONED EARTH

By Donna E. Collister.

(Pasadena, California)

The pick throws up the long imprisoned earth; The cool air bathes its sterile clods.

Ten thousand years ago it may have given birth To pines that sheltered goddesses and gods.

A child runs singing down the smoke grimed

street

And flings aside a crimson rose;

The mother earth yearns to repeat

The flower before again the pavement close.

SURRENDER

By Bess Norris.

(Guthrie, Oklahoma)

Last night I saw the stars of gold

In a field of velvet blue:

Each sparkling star was a precious thought, That recalled my hours with you.

Last night I heard the evening wind
Whisper gently to the trees:

Each whisper was a message sweet,
You wafted on the breeze.

Last night I saw the fragrant rose

Its petals gleamed with Heav'n-sown dew: Each petal was a soft caress,

I fain would give to you.

Last night I saw the sparkling stars
In a field of velvet blue:

Each sparking star was a tender call
O love, I fly to you!

THE BLIND

By Edwin Carlile Litsey.

(Lebanon, Kentucky)

Oh, how I pity the blind of earth!-
Not those of the sealed eyes;

For theirs is a kingdom we cannot sense,
With its leaden, rayless skies.

But the blind of heart, and the blind of brain,

And the blind of soul, alas!

Who travel with wide eyes, and yet

See nothing as they pass.

I pity the blind who cannot feel
The ache in a crooked spine;

Or the hurting heart of the underpaid,
By suffering made divine.
Who cannot vision the basic fact,

No one should bless or blame;
For a hair divides a wife's high place
From her sister's couch of shame.

I pity the blind who can look at stars
And only see their shine;

Who can stand by the ocean's mystic marge
And only know its brine.

Who can walk through a forest's holy heart
And think it lonely there;

Who can lift a lily's flawless cup,
And cannot feel a prayer.

Oh, how I pity the blind of earth!
And Legion is their name;

Who stumble, grasping, groping, mad,
In the whirl of the money game.

Wide-eyed they fight for a gilded goal,
Wide-eyed they fall and die;

While the dogwood blooms and the brook sings.

on

For folk like you and I.

HOURS

By Hazel Hall.

(Portland, Oregon)

I have known hours built like cities,

House on gray house, with streets between
That lead to straggling roads and trail off-
Forgotten in a field of green;

Hours made like mountains lifting

White crests out of the fog and rain,

And woven of forbidden music

Hours eternal in their pain.

Life is a tapestry of hours

Forever mellowing in tone,

Where all things blend, even the longing
For hours I have never known.

HEART OF MINE
By Kathleen Nutter,
(Delta, Colorado)

'Gainst velvet sky the moon hung low-
Breezes wandered to and fro

Bearing breath of mignonette-
Heart of mine, can you forgot?

Youth and Spring and comrad Love
Danced with us, and stars above
Seemed to sing when our lips met-
Heart of mine, can you forget?

Silent stars are dimmed with tears
And oh the dark and dreary years.
That lie beyond! Ah even yet
Heart of mine, you do forget!

ANDANTE, SYMPHONY PATHETIQUE, TSHAIKOWSKI By Walter B. Wolfe.

(St. Louis, Missouri)

Strong grey pinions

Beat ceaselessly

Thru the twilight:

The grey brant wings

Past the wide purple ridges.

To the southland...

O the longing,

The wide vast loneliness

Of autumn north woods!

Mournfully the brown dry leaves

Are falling, whispering

Threnodies for earth,

Earth that grows cold

And lonely...

Strong grey pinions
Beat ceaselessly-
In dark wedges
The grey-flecked brant
Wings to the south-
My heart has followed
The grey flying arrows-
My heart is torn
With his wild cry-
And only anguish

Anguish and loneliness.

Are left to me....