Poem fractal

Side by side

Random

0.040 apart. A smaller distance means the lines are built more alike.

This number is read from the build of the lines. The bright edge is that number, carried outward until the pattern repeats.

Walls

by Eva Gore-Booth

−0.6105 + 0.2732i

Drawing the boundary…

The Little Ghost

by Patrick Reginald Chalmers

−0.6503 + 0.2660i

Drawing the boundary…

The poems

Each poem scrolls on its own, so the two texts stay beside each other.

Walls

by Eva Gore-Booth

Free to all souls the hidden beauty calls,
The sea thrift dwelling on her spray-swept height,
The lofty rose, the low-grown aconite,
The gliding river and the stream that brawls
Down the sharp cliffs with constant breaks and falls—
All these are equal in the equal light—
All waters mirror the one Infinite.

God made a garden, it was men built walls;
But the wide sea from men is wholly freed;
Freely the great waves rise and storm and break,
Nor softlier go for any landlord's need,
Where rhythmic tides flow for no miser's sake
And none hath profit of the brown sea-weed,
But all things give themselves, yet none may take.

The Little Ghost

by Patrick Reginald Chalmers

Broad, high yew hedges flank the flowers, and border 
An old, smooth lawn where, fashioned grimly stiff. 
Two knights — in close-clipped box — keep ancient order, 
O'er shaven dragon, hound and hippogriff; 
And there,
When the June air 
At dusk is cool and fair. 
And the great roses strengthen on their stalks, 
Down the long path, beset 
With heaven-scented, haunting mignonette. 
The gardeners say, 
A little grey 
Ghost-lady walks! 

I haven't seen her, haven't heard her legend. 
Pale little shade, only the rumour tells 
That 'tis her wont to wander to the hedge-end, 
And vanish near the Canterbury Bells; 
And so 
I do not know 
What sends her to and fro — 
Murder, may be, or broken heart, or gold. 
I like to fancy most 
That she is just some little lady's ghost 
Who loved her flowers
And quiet hours 
In Junes of old! 

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