This summer I shall try preserving. Neither strawberries nor plums, Nor blackberries nor cherries, Nor peaches nor pears Shall go into my jars. But salt sea breeze, summer stars, Leafy lanes in silent woods, Orchid blooms and wild-bird calls, Strips of sandy beach, Meadows gold with buttercups, Roadways edged with Queen Anne's lace, Sunlight on a yawl's white sails, Children's voices shouting At their games upon the grass -- Pause Time, and let them linger In this magic interlude -- Rush of surf against the rocks, Sea-gulls crying on a reef. These, and such as these, Shall I store away within my heart, To tide me through the winter Into spring. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GLOTTO'S TOWER by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW AN EPITAPH UPON THE DEATH OF HIS AUNT, ELIZABETH SKRYMSHER by RICHARD BARNFIELD AFTER CONSTRUING by ARTHUR CHRISTOPHER BENSON DINNER by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON A WOMAN'S SONNETS: 7 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT ON THE DEATH OF ANNE BRONTE by CHARLOTTE BRONTE THE CANTERBURY TALES: THE SECOND NUN'S TALE by GEOFFREY CHAUCER |