Things I Love
by
Nathanael Smith

A whispered word, sincerity
A saffron cloud of dusk
A perfected streamer reflected
By dismal pools of dust

Mornings dawn grey, hope
Clouds low hanging, sad
And living love fast growing
Ever present, ever past

A midnight on the gusty heath
A star twinking high above
A grassy down, with freedom sound
These are the things I love