Trees write their thoughts upon the sky's wide page, Pale sky of springtime, summer's virgin blue, Or storm-whipped sky, blackbrowed and thick with rage Slim willows, golden green by rushing stream, Trace daintily their tremulous, wistful hope Of earth's awakening from her winter dream. Maples are bold, and with gay, reckless hand Their flaming words of springtime rapture fling Where all who pass may read and understand. Today I saw, shrunken and scarred by time, A weathered cedar write on cold, north skies Words of calm patience, and a faith sublime. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SWEET CLOVER by EDGAR LEE MASTERS WOODNOTES: 2 by RALPH WALDO EMERSON BLANDID'S SONG, FR. THE CRIER BY NIGHT by GORDON BOTTOMLEY DRAMATIC IDYLS: 2ND SERIES. PROLOGUE by ROBERT BROWNING TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 3. THE WIND OF MAY by EDWARD CARPENTER A CHILD IS BORN by EDWARD RALPH CHEYNEY WILLIAM TELL AND THE GENIUS OF SWITZERLAND by THOMAS OSBORNE DAVIS |