Sunbeam yellow
On the page.
I read the mellow
Ink on pale
Sheets of tales.
From silent bark
To shifting hand,
And lilting words
That, blackly, stand.
In all your letters:
Their beauty frills
The sunbeam, yellow,
On my windowsill.
I ride your beam, beyond
The sinking dusk.
And friend to friend
Your loving pen:
Paints the swinging fronds.
The field where still, you stand,
Between twin dusty lanes.
Your joy and pain still
Rest below a night:
Of shining starlight, bright!
Upon my yellow windowsill.
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