My heart is like an unused room Hung with the heavy cobwebs of old sorrow. So much of spring is said, But still ... keep tryst with me When locusts bloom tomorrow! The red-bud flowered thinly Going her way to purple death; Dog-wood had bridal Withholding for fall her secret berries red -- That much of spring is said But still ... the locusts bloom tomorrow! The bee explores the bosom of the rose -- (How many wasted years God only knows, And the locusts bloom tomorrow.) Too much of spring is said -- And a heart could bloom Opening wide an unused room ... Oh, do not fail! Keep tryst With bloom tomorrow! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE DEATH OF A PHOTOGRAPHER by KAREN SWENSON APPROACH OF WINTER by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS VERSES OCCASIONED BY THE SUDDEN DRYING UP..ST.PATRICK'S WELL by JONATHAN SWIFT SONG ON THE WATER (2) by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES MEDITATIONS FOR EVERY DAY IN PASSION WEEK: MONDAY by JOHN BYROM A WISH WRITTEN IN JESUS WOOD, FEB. 10TH, 1792 by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE BOSTON NURSERY RHYME: RHYME FOR A BOTANICAL BABY by FLAVIUS JOSEPHUS COOK |