Give me the long, straight road before me, A heart that is light and free from care. My feet may lead, for my spirit shall be Free as the river that flows to the sea. Olive Runner SUNRISE SUNRISE AT SANTA BARBARA The sea hides its curious heart Under a bridal robe of mother-o'-pearl, Waiting. Against a turquoise sky The mountains kneel, mauve-gray In the gray-pink sand Of the curving shore, Waiting. The moon, pale and wan, Hangs a flat design in silver The palm trees, in parallel rows Along the Plaza, clasp Nervous, wavering fingers, Waiting. Riding on a many-fluted shell Held on the backs of jade tritons, Comes Venus Anadyomene, straight and slim, Combing the night curls From her ruddy hair, Blown by the four winds To the meeting with her lover. Then, he comes-the young Sun, To pave a path of brazen metal The two little feet of his bride. He surrounds, covers, hides her The sea roughens, Sending her waves with the morning breeze Against the shore. It is day! THE POMEGRANATE BUSH When she was alive She moved like a frail ghost, The spirit of a wraith. Her chiffons trailed about her Like spirals of smoke. The wail in her voice was gray and pining Like the sea after twilight. She died and was buried. Now, she has returned-a woman Among us. She passed down the street Wrapped in a Spanish shawl, And amber roses: The silk fringe caught in a small, green bush; She stooped and swayed, With long pointed fingers disengaged The silk fringe of the shawl. THE SAND DUNES There I know blue, blue water, And a waving line of land, With pines that grow in a wind-swept row And where the winds will, in hollow or hill, Sand as soft as a snowfall— Over the grasses swirled, Sand of romantic patterns New for each passer fleet. Here a flower has lain, there the leaf-like chain. And the pebbled trace as of scalloped lace Gleaming sands in the morning When the little waves run white, And the lupine blue spreads a heaven new |