Selection 3 of
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Dew Fallby Carol DesjarlaisSwell hard towards the coming frost Lean to the ground for warmth and writhe Against cold bath but at what cost? By sky stretch'd morning of belief Cling hard to pores and green rich veins Stretch wide and high with faith and hope Come sun noon warm its strength regains False promise comes by dappled noon Bent weak with cold and pale with dark Brown etchings paint the bitter'd edge The breath of winter left its mark. Upon my pane the gilding shows My breath against the glass disguise The harm between the frame and I Sweet prism is a sunglint vise. How oft' I wish for seasons charm For colors of the greening gold With blossom's nodding in the shade Before they droop with dread'd cold. And dew kiss'd lips and petals pink Unshrunk and young with yawning bud No need for curl and fold within Nor shrinking to eternal mud. The cost is dear and dry within A summer garden's sweet repose For naught is ev'r quite the same When bud and heart in hurt are closed. |
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Selection 3 of
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