ON the lips of the child Janet float changing dreams. It is a thin spiral of blue smoke, A morning campfire at a mountain lake. On the lips of the child Janet, Wisps of haze on ten miles of corn, Young light blue calls to young light gold of morning. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON BEING ASKED TO WRITE A POEM AGAINST THE WAR IN VIETNAM by HAYDEN CARRUTH CITIES OF THE PLAIN by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SIGNATURE OF LOVE by KAREN SWENSON CITY VIGNETTE: DAWN by SARA TEASDALE THE GREAT CAROUSAL by LOUIS UNTERMEYER THE LITTLE ELF-MAN by JOHN KENDRICK BANGS THE MOUSE'S PETITION TO DOCTOR PRIESTLY FOUND IN THE TRAP .. by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |