Late Afternoon in Hagley Park

A chilly-pallid moon of silver-white
drowning in frosty sky of paling blue
and far beneath, through thin air twilight-tanged
thronged with rising earthy mists,
smouldering ranks of autumned trees
gloomed beyond long-shadowed greens:

the lake now lies with depths of icy stillness
rich-flecked by twisted falling leaves
that melt into the warmly-tinted hills
sunset-toned against the gathering clouds
across the dusking city spires.

—a.

The way you smiled, assuredly
You were extremely nice to kiss;

I loved your bright espiéglerie,
The way you smiled assuredly. . . .

Your casual goodbye to me
Rankles, but not so raw as this:

The way you smiled! Assuredly
You were extremely nice—to kiss.

—H.W.G.

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