· the cultural society · » Janet Holmes

1862.49 (433-434)

Janet Holmes — Mon, 14 May 2007 12:00:58 +0000

A Murmur in the Trees

Nor near enough — to find

A long — long Yellow

Not audible — as Our

A Hurrying Home
To
All

Although I heard them

But then I promised ne’er to

How could I break My word
So
No fear

It is dead —

Out of sound — Out of Sight —
“Happy”? Which is wiser —
You, or the
“Conscious”?
Of the low Ground?

“Homesick”?
Even
Themselves

Janet Holmes — Mon, 14 May 2007 12:00:19 +0000

They shut me up

For Treason

Him

It is That

We wonder it was not

Of Portion — so unconscious

There breathed a Man

Could He — know — they
Could They — know
Horrid
Neither — could be heard

Oh, Reward

When One who died for Truth

Janet Holmes — Mon, 14 May 2007 12:00:03 +0000

They

I did not dare
For fear

To take the name of
And
The
A Prison

We come to look
For the
It deal us — stated as Our

The Posture
That
To Our Endeavor — Not
The Cheek of Liberty —

For something passiver —