This summer I shall try preserving. Neither strawberries nor plums, Nor blackberries nor cherries, Nor peaches nor pears Shall go into my jars. But salt sea breeze, summer stars, Leafy lanes in silent woods, Orchid blooms and wild-bird calls, Strips of sandy beach, Meadows gold with buttercups, Roadways edged with Queen Anne's lace, Sunlight on a yawl's white sails, Children's voices shouting At their games upon the grass -- Pause Time, and let them linger In this magic interlude -- Rush of surf against the rocks, Sea-gulls crying on a reef. These, and such as these, Shall I store away within my heart, To tide me through the winter Into spring. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DEATH SNIPS PROUD MEN by CARL SANDBURG NAPEOLON'S FAREWELL; FROM THE FRENCH by GEORGE GORDON BYRON MOTLEY: THE GHOST by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE TO MY NOSE by ALFRED HENRY FORRESTER SONNET: 9. TO THE RIVER LODON by THOMAS WARTON THE YOUNGER LINES COMPOSED AT GRASMERE by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH THE TOOTHPICK by GHALIB IBN RIBAH AL-HAJJAM |