A Poem Of Color
Stretched on the ground beneath the Hawthorn,
The perfume of its blossoms mingled with falling petals, floats
down to me.
Winged things alight there on the blanket of fragrance above,--a
bunting, blue as the sky, a warbler, all gold, an Admiral, wings
banded with crimson,
Make a poem of color of the Hawthorn tree.
The perfume of its blossoms mingled with falling petals, floats
down to me.
Winged things alight there on the blanket of fragrance above,--a
bunting, blue as the sky, a warbler, all gold, an Admiral, wings
banded with crimson,
Make a poem of color of the Hawthorn tree.
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