For W. P. The little park was filled with peace, The walks were carpeted with snow, But every iron gate was locked. Lest if we entered, peace would go. We circled it a dozen times, The wind was blowing from the sea, I only felt your restless eyes Whose love was like a cloak for me. Oh heavy gates that fate has locked To bar the joy we may not win, Peace would go out forevermore If we should dare to enter in. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO THE ROCK THAT WILL BE A CORNERSTONE OF THE HOUSE by ROBINSON JEFFERS MONADNOCK IN EARLY SPRING by AMY LOWELL THE STARLING; SONNET by AMY LOWELL EIGHTEEN-DOLLAR TAXI TRIP TO TIZAPAN AND BACK TO CHAPALA by CLARENCE MAJOR DOMESDAY BOOK: AT NICE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS DOMESDAY BOOK: THE VERDICT by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |