Boyhood Poems
Early Poems III
by Michael R. Burch
EARLY POEMS: JUVENALIA III by Michael R. Burch
Canticle: an Aubade
by Michael R. Burch, age 16
Misty morning sunlight hails the dawning of new day;
dreams drift into drowsiness before they fade away.
Dew drops on the green grass echo splendors of the sun;
......
The Boy-child
by Humberto Gómez Sequeira-HuGóS
I know the boy-child
who grew in the dark,
without a tender spark,
scared, tearful and wild.
Early Poems: Juvenalia
by Michael R. Burch
EARLY POEMS: JUVENALIA by Michael R. Burch
Styx
by Michael R. Burch, age 16
Black waters,
deep and dark and still...
all men have passed this way,
......
Early Poems: Juvenilia II
by Michael R. Burch
EARLY POEMS: JUVENALIA II by Michael R. Burch
Premonition
by Michael R. Burch, age 19
Now the evening has come to a close and the party is over ...
we stand in the doorway and watch as they go—
each stranger, each acquaintance, each casual lover.
......
Transformation
by Humberto Gómez Sequeira-HuGóS
If I could transform
my nebulous dreams
into ships with sails,
my lungs would fly
like paper airplanes
over the mind fields
of innocence and curiosity
where a little boy plays
with his imaginary train.
......
Early Poems III
by Michael R. Burch
EARLY POEMS: JUVENALIA III by Michael R. Burch
Canticle: an Aubade
by Michael R. Burch, age 16
Misty morning sunlight hails the dawning of new day;
dreams drift into drowsiness before they fade away.
Dew drops on the green grass echo splendors of the sun;
......
Early Poems: Juvenilia II
by Michael R. Burch
EARLY POEMS: JUVENALIA II by Michael R. Burch
Premonition
by Michael R. Burch, age 19
Now the evening has come to a close and the party is over ...
we stand in the doorway and watch as they go—
each stranger, each acquaintance, each casual lover.
......
Early Poems: Juvenalia
by Michael R. Burch
EARLY POEMS: JUVENALIA by Michael R. Burch
Styx
by Michael R. Burch, age 16
Black waters,
deep and dark and still...
all men have passed this way,
......
Transformation
by Humberto Gómez Sequeira-HuGóS
If I could transform
my nebulous dreams
into ships with sails,
my lungs would fly
like paper airplanes
over the mind fields
of innocence and curiosity
where a little boy plays
with his imaginary train.
......
The Boy-child
by Humberto Gómez Sequeira-HuGóS
I know the boy-child
who grew in the dark,
without a tender spark,
scared, tearful and wild.
