Perhaps, a tree, a sweet slim tree, And when the wind with fluted strings Sends little joyous signalings I twirl my painted skirts and dance a gay coupee! The passerby can only see Me knitting soberly. At times, a gull, a storm-swept gull, I fight my way from crest to crest My heart congealed within my breast! I rise! I fall! To rise again with ecstasy! The passerby can only see Me knitting placidly. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CLOISTER by ISAAC ROSENBERG LOVE'S APOTHEOSIS by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR A RECIPE FOR SALAD by SYDNEY SMITH WHITE FIELDS by JAMES STEPHENS LET US HAVE PEACE by NANCY BYRD TURNER MY MOTHER by FLORENCE R. ANDREWS PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 99. AZ-ZABOOR by EDWIN ARNOLD ODE 13. ON THE CHARMS OF PEACE by BACCHYLIDES HINC LACHRIMAE; OR THE AUTHOR TO AURORA: 9 by WILLIAM BOSWORTH |