The iron is hidden in forgetfulness.
by Leon Gellert
A smoothness comes to men and lies on lands.
Women of peace arise in lustred dress,
and hold aloft their sleek and perfect hands.
the birds are in the morn, the bees in the noon.
The eve has song and sleep and slow repose.
A lazy Ease treads soft on feathered shoon
that leaves no sign to show the way she goes.
Soft cheeks there are; and Guile with coiling hair
smiles at the earth and croons within her chair.
The slow leaves fall, and rustling Night begins
Her reign of furriness. the slinking feet
Of half-seen things and thoughts bring brushing sins
and warmths of fog that touch a smouldering heat.