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Sappho, v. 1 issue 1, June 1943
Page 7
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THE BRIDGE Flames of steel spit lava from a charcoal pit. I become a golden goddess as the liquid fills each gaping hole; I become a breathing soul embracing sand. Lapping foam lifts kisses from my lips to granite shores and swooping wings. Silver beaks drop star dust from the silver sky, Crystal dew dissolves the muddy morning tide, Yellow fog echoes the sodden sailor's sigh, And I listen! Wings of gulls are ruffled by the silken winds that sift Sands of far Arabia where pyramids Never feel that soft caress of a white feather as it rests on steel. --SHIRLEY CHAPPER.
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THE BRIDGE Flames of steel spit lava from a charcoal pit. I become a golden goddess as the liquid fills each gaping hole; I become a breathing soul embracing sand. Lapping foam lifts kisses from my lips to granite shores and swooping wings. Silver beaks drop star dust from the silver sky, Crystal dew dissolves the muddy morning tide, Yellow fog echoes the sodden sailor's sigh, And I listen! Wings of gulls are ruffled by the silken winds that sift Sands of far Arabia where pyramids Never feel that soft caress of a white feather as it rests on steel. --SHIRLEY CHAPPER.
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