If a man says half himself in the light, adroit
Way a tune shakes into equilibrium,
Or approximates to a note that never comes:
Says half himself in the way two pencil-lines
Flow to each other and softly separate,
In the resolute way plane lifts and leaps from plane:
Who knows what intimacies our eyes may shout,
What evident secrets daily foreheads flaunt,
What panes of glass conceal our beating hearts?
Submitted by Stephen Fryer
Betrayal
Arthur Seymour John Tessimond
(1)
Poem topics: light, never, evident, equilibrium, glass, daily, plane, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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