Lovely Loneliness Is the Mood

Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem

He has the springtime hilltops in his chest.

They rise inside him with their ridges wrought

In new-leaved green.  Small mountains with each crest

Of budding life are far from beauty fraught

With winter winds.  These hills hold beauty still

Because the snowdrops want it so.  Each bunch

Holds calmness to attention.  Greening hill

And greening hill hear whispers of the hunch

That snowdrop whimsy is the rule obeyed.

Commands do not need shouting.  Snowdrop power

Continues with its breezeless strength.  Each blade

Of grass grows foot-felt velvet for each flower.

  If showers of rain are threatened, leaves prepare

    Protection for the lower, stillest air.