Flirtatious breeze, where hast thou fled
And when wilt thou return?
Thy touch for which we keenly yearn
Is clutched in gales of lead
Ah wooly wind, when wilt thou don
Once more thy winsome way
To tease the bleating lambs that play
On verdant meadow yon?
Sweet zephyr, voice of willow-song
Must thou so bashful be?
The night without thy melody
Is deep and dark and long
Dear vesper, crooning daylight’s dirge
Wilt thou be ever still?
Thy duet with the whip-poor-will
Thrills retrospect’s soft surge
Flirtatious breeze, the somber spire
Hungers for spring’s caress
When wilt thy kiss unfurl the tress
Of wood-land’s gladsome choir?
© Janet Martin
Oh, what a whispering, longing poem.
ReplyDeleteWhen wilt thy kiss unfurl the tress
Of wood-land’s gladsome choir?
I love it all. (I am now signed up to receive your posts via email). I always enjoy coming here :)
Margaret, thank-you so much. I appreciate it and oh, if you get tired of the mega-volume I apologize in advance;))
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