WJ:Poems by Claire

"When the flush of a new-born sun fell first on Eden's green and gold,
Our father Adam sat under the Tree and scratched with a stick in the mould;
And the first rude sketch that the world had seen was joy to his mighty heart,
Till the Devil whispered behind the leaves, "It's pretty, but is it Art?"

from Rudyard Kipling's The Conundrum of the Workshops

Poetry: Poems by Claire

These poems were written and are owned by Claire A. Schaeffer . Please feel free to print out a copy for your personal use, but do include a statement such as: "Copyright © Claire A. Schaeffer ".
Almost Dreaming
Another Day: Just home from work, I struggle through the door...
Artifacts: The Spickley boys live deep in Marshton's Grove...
Asylum: I close the door. I pray...
Between Two Poets: I stand. Ginsberg...
The Critic: Bereft of style, deprived of wit!
Cutter Woman: Cutter Woman in the dark...

Erudite: Old man McFinney sat, buck naked, on his porch...
From Across the Street : Inside grey house with dark red trim...
Motor Mortalis: The loud kerthunk, the quiet hiss --
Night Walker: Before she sleeps, she patters to the door...
Two Bits: Like schoolyard children trading licks...
Planet Schmanet: My homeland bears a shroud of turquoise now...
Vitriolic Valentine: Oh, keep your grocery store bouquet, with grim...
The Well: The women come -- ancestral beads clicking...

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