Song.

A poem by Sophie M. Almon-Hensley

Low laughed the Columbine,
Trembled her petals fine
As the breeze blew;
In her dove-heart there stirred
Murmurs the dull bee heard,
And Love, Life's wild white bird,
Straightway she knew.

Resting her lilac cheek
Gently, in aspect meek,
On the gray stone,
The morning-glory, free,
Welcomed the yellow bee,

Heard the near-rolling sea
Murmur and moan.

Calm lay the tawny sand
Stretching a long wet hand
To the far wave.
Swift to her warm waiting breast
Longing to be possessed
Leaps 'neath his billowy crest
Her Lover brave.

Reader Comments

Tell us what you think of 'Song.' by Sophie M. Almon-Hensley

comments powered by Disqus

Home | Search | About this website | Contact | Privacy Policy