Seafoam and mist and moonbeams Mingled to fashion these Delicate, dream-like blossoms Clothing the wild-plum trees. How can such gnarled, gray branches Froth in a single hour Into a snowy, scented Splendor of bud and flower? Never have hands created Loveliness to compare With that which Spring has woven For the wild plums to wear. Moonlight adds new enchantment Lends more ethereal grace; Nothing so fair as plum trees Robed in their bridal lace. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TRUE UNTIL DEATH by ROBERT BURNS WHEN JOHNNY COMES MARCHING HOME by PATRICK SARSFIELD GILMORE AN ORIGINAL THOUGHT by MARIA ABDY SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 46 by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) AT THE GRAVE OF DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI by H. T. MACKENZIE BELL PENT by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON SPRING NIGHT by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |