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...NEW YEAR'S EVE by DAVID IGNATOW TO WILLIAM STANLEY BRAITHWAITE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON CHAMBER MUSIC: 14 by JAMES JOYCE THE GARDEN OF ADONIS by EMMA LAZARUS AQUATINT FRAMED IN GOLD by AMY LOWELL MADMAN OF THE SOUTH SIDE by CLARENCE MAJOR THE LAKE BOATS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |