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+                               The Poets Corner                              +
+ VOL. 7                                                   NUMBER 08 ISSUE 72 +
+ Copyright (C) 1993 Kevin Keyser                                 August 1993 +
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+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++   +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
+          In The Corner!           +   +         Info, Info, Info!           +
+                                   +   +                                     +
+ Greetings!                        +   +   The Poets Corner is published     +
+                                   +   +   monthly by Kevin J. Keyser.       +
+   This month we continue with     +   +                                     +
+ the poems written by my relative  +   +   Please feel free to distribute    +
+ Edwin Cerney.  This series was    +   +   The Poets Corner!  I only ask     +
+ begun in the June issue.          +   +   that you do not change the        +
+                                   +   +   contents or charge a fee for      +
+                                   +   +   access to this publication.       +
+               Kevin               +   +                                     +
+                 James             +   +   Because of Copyright concerns     +
+                   Keyser          +   +   and other legal mumbo jumble      +
+                                   +   +   The Poets Corner does NOT         +
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++   +   accept submissions!               +
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                                        +   Comments and ideas are ALWAYS     +
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                                  Untitled #1


         The frolicking breeze,
         Wearied by it's long day flirtation
         With the poplar leaves
         Subsides to rest,
         Save for a now and then breath
         To brush your hair against my cheek
         As you lie close beside me.

         Birds have issued their paean of
         "This is my place"
         And have settled in the branches
         To speak an occasional querulous sound
         Of possession -
         As I whisper "You're mine..mime..thru all the ends of time...
         You're mine."

         The sun that climbed the eastern skies,
         Reached the heights and coasted down the back slope,
         Rests on the far ridge
         And pants for quiet.

         There is a hush
         Over all the land,
         A hush when I need no words
         For my long plea of adoration
         Now speaks thru the touch of my hand,
         The flutter of your lash on my cheek,
         The knowing that we are here,
         Together,
         In the quiet time.
































                                  Untitled #2


         The clock ticks,
         The Hands move
         And time passes;
         And with this passage of time
         There should be change.

         Change to what?
         Change for the sake of change?
         Change just to move from the what-is-now
         To the what-might-be?

         I love you;
         This is the now,
         And the tomorrow
         And the yesterday.

         Tick away your time,
         Let the gongs ring the hours;

         Where is there to go
         But where I am now?

         What is there to seek
         But what I hold tenderly
         In my hands, my heart, my soul,
         My love.






































                                  Untitled #3


         They ask your birth.
         You can not say
         "Twas such and such a day in fall
         Or May."

         You first saw the light
         When some now long-fogotten maid,
         Much loved, first gave
         Her lips, and arms, and heart.

         No birth, no life
         Can in itself ensue
         To the tenderness as I have found
         In you.

         These are the songs for....my gal.


                                 - - - - - - -

         Eons of lovely women, much adored
         have pooled their loveliness and joy
         That you might live.

         The gladness and the anguish that they knew
         Is like a distillate, resolved in you.

         These are songs to beauty.




                                                                     *FIN!