A WISP and a tangle, A streamer, a mesh, For the old tree to dangle, The spring wind to thresh: The young moon behind it, A cabin below; An owl there to mind it, And Venus to glow: A pool in the rice-field, With peepers to plash; Some cedars, a mice-field, Where furry things dash And shake down the seeds From the quivering weeds; Where the meadow-lark breeds, And -- the person were rash Who would think to undo all that moss from the tree, Or blot this dear picture from Southland and me! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPRING SONG by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR TO A POET THAT DIED YOUNG by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY THE CLINGING VINE by ANTIPATER OF SIDON POSSESSED by RUTH FITCH BARTLETT NOW OR NEVER by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN MOTHERHOOD by WILLIAM STANLEY BRAITHWAITE |