Simon Pitchforth

It is under the small, dim, summer star. I know not who these mute folk are

Simon Pitchforth

...and having climbed the steep-up heavenly hill

Simon Pitchforth

More Steam, More Starlight (Pt. 2) - Another Fourth World Excursion

Simon Pitchforth

More Steam, More Starlight (Pt. 1) - Another Fourth World Excursion

Simon Pitchforth

Twilight and evening bell, And after that the dark

Simon Pitchforth

Dreaming that sylvan peace, Offered the harrowed ease

Simon Pitchforth

We grow accustomed to the dark, when light is put away

Simon Pitchforth

Of bronze and blaze, the north tonight

Simon Pitchforth

Who made the snow waits where love is

Simon Pitchforth

Steam and Starlight - A Fourth World Excursion - Pt. 2

Simon Pitchforth

This is the poem of the air, slowly in silent syllables recorded

Simon Pitchforth

Then leaf subsides to leaf. So Eden sank to grief

Simon Pitchforth

Sun destroys the interest, of what’s happening in the shade

Simon Pitchforth

If wilderness prevent her feet, or that ethereal zone

Simon Pitchforth

Steam and Starlight - A Fourth World Excursion

Simon Pitchforth

The rain is full of ghosts tonight, that tap and sigh upon the glass

Simon Pitchforth

Where the wood rots crackling under a lead sun.

Simon Pitchforth

The Night's Drifts Pile Up Below Me

Simon Pitchforth

Autumn Painted Their Flight on Windowpanes

Simon Pitchforth

From childhood’s hour I have not been, as others were, I have not seen

Simon Pitchforth