2 poems by Joseph James Cawein



The laughing is the laughing is the echoing caverns,

The wind brushing through, rushing over the unseen,

Smiling over well-lit rock, stirring some debris.

Smiles do not breed smiles,

Smiles do not smile,

Smiles not themselves corrupt, stirring some debris,

Why do smiles stir something that smiles should not be?


Ho-he, ho-ha, delight is me,

My head on shining rock,

Lips pursed, and when the wind should come,

When the wind should come through this sightly cavern,

Sounding like a love song, I will hear its beauty and kiss this shining rock.


This cavern is a warm medium,

Not east, nor west, nor where the beauty sings.

Not where the death retreats, but just a comely veil away.


It was a castle in the gloom of eastern sky

It was a castle in the gloom of eastern sky





Something in the twilight undresses the night,

Parts gently her lips and kisses such sweet sorrow,

Rolls over the hills and whispers parting words

Where golden rays thaw seraphim wings,

Sprinkling ivory chimes o’er cascading morn.

The thrush sings a lullaby,

In refulgent purple dawn,

And sweetness cradles the ubiquitous juxtaposing,

Of coup de foudre, adieu.


Published by

Jeremiah Walton

Jeremiah Walton is wary of writing a bio.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s