Poems By Arjava

SHE walked within the hush of fading half-light,

Silence was round her like a crystal globe,

She crossed the terraced lawns at the hour of moth-fare ;

And moth-white over the dimness gleamed her robe.

Day was far-stricken in hours and minutes,

And the grey aftermath grew into dark,

While out of soft skies of a June vigil

Empyreal light sifted spark after golden spark.