It's raining this morning, but until now, it's been beautiful. I've been admiring the flowers. While I can't show them to you, I can share them in another way.
Flowers
by Florence Taber Holt
Not all flowers have souls,
But roses, for they are memories of lovers,
And lilies, their prayers,
Azaleas; who give themselves to the winds,
And irises, beloved of Pindar,
And the pale oenothera,
Incandescent in the twilight,
And many sweet and simple flowers—
Snowdrops and violets,
White and delicately veined—
And all shadowy wind-flowers.
But not tree blossoms,
Which are the breath of Spring,
Nor poppies, splendid and secret,
And sprung from drops of Persian blood,
Nor water-lilies, who have but their dreams,
And float, little worlds of scent and color,
Wrapt in their golden atmosphere.
The round up today is being hosted by writer2b at Findings: Threads of Revelation. Do stop by to enjoy all the great poetry being shared this week. Before you go, be sure to check out this week's poetry stretch results. Happy poetry Friday, all!
Lovely. Thanks for sharing this!
ReplyDeleteIt just started raining here today, too. You must be on the East Coast; we get your weather about two days later...
ReplyDeleteThis poem sounds very 18th century, and like I should have heard it before, but it's unfamiliar... thanks for sharing.
Love this poem. Tree blossoms as the breath of spring, and water-lilies, little worlds of scent and color. I dry all the roses I get, put them in a big potpourri bowl. It's not for the petals or the scent, but to keep all the love that came with their giving!
ReplyDeleteLovely how just the names of flowers brings back their sweetness! Thanks for this.
ReplyDelete"But not tree blossoms"
ReplyDeleteI love the turn there. Thanks for sharing the poem, Tricia. (It's raining here in NJ, too. - Tanita has rain in her future, I'm guessing!)