Poems from philippanhorst
Let my works speak for themselves for they are a reflection of that which I am: the Piedmont, the old maritime coast, and then the ocean.
Like light through beech-leaves is my lover’s hair
And wind in the trees is not half as fair
As the caress of the breeze in her locks.
...
A myrtle, a maple, and a tall oak
Sat high on a hill while there still I stood.
With knotted hands upon my knees I spoke
To the myrtle of...
Across marsh-scape the tempest approaches,
Its breath a chilling tremor in my heart
That whistling wraps, whines, and encroaches
Upon me a...
I walk beneath the weight of grey
Clouds that obscure and blur my way
Through the drenched trials of the storm
That fall upon my cloaked...
Upon the open sea,
Space above and depths below,
A sloop lies on the placid
Sea of foam.
With feather-like sails
And sharp, sleek bow...