Some Fun with St. Vincent Millay's poetry; two poems.

SUNDAY

By Olan L. Smith, May 1st '22

If I speak to you on Sunday

Well you reply?

I will, so much is sure,

For every day is Sunday I won't deny.

And will you shake your head

If I write you each day?

Starting this day I say no instead,

It consumes too much my time in May.

TO IMPORTANT HER

By Olan L. Smith, May 1st '22

I cannot tell from here, I must see

In person the one across the seas,

From here to there and back on a whim,

Whether or not time is merciful to him.

No gift, no flowers from the shore to share

Not now, nor ever for a distant love affair

It is written in the stars,

But she won't perceive the writer's scars.

The material is tightly woven,

What pierces an armored knight?

Why is a blunted blade's seraphim

Ravaged by the night?

Dedicated to seasofme 

A.N. These two poem were created in seasofme's conversation about the work of St. Vincent Millay and therefore my muse dedicates these to Seas. Edna Millay's poetry style reminds me of Emily Dickinson's, though Millay followed Emily by some sixty plus years the style are somewhat similar.