 | |
| Bob Prouty - May 15, 2010 View | Edit | Delete | Viewers
Categories: Bob's poetry
| | When Flower Fades
Ask me not, when flower fades,
Where all her fragrant beauties go
Or whence the springtime bluegrass blades
When all the winds of summer blow
And May, dismayed, but disappear.
In you the flowers of spring reside.
Your eyes a thousand violets hide
And scent of lilac, glint of dew,
The month of May but sleep in you
Till Spring spring forth again next year.
The Flowers on the Hill
Go tell the flowers on the hill
That though they grow in beauty still
And though their fragrant perfumes scent
The meadow. Though in wonderment
All nature at their graces swoon.
And star and sun and crescent moon,
Go tell the violets that they
Are not the fairest flowers of May,
For though they be as countless, love,
As stars strewn through the skies above
And though the day their beauties fill,
Go tell the flowers on the hill
That never fairer flower grew
In all of springtime, love, than you. |
|
|
|
No comments:
Post a Comment