Her thoughts are like a flock of butterflies. She has a merry love of little things And a bright flutter of speech, whereto she brings A threefold eloquence -- voice, hands, and eyes. Yet under all a subtle silence lies, As a bird's heart is hidden by its wings, And you shall search through many wanderings The Fairyland of her realities. She hides herself behind a busy brain: A woman, with a child's laugh in her blood, A maid, wearing the shadow of motherhood, -- Wise with the quiet memory of old pain, As the soft glamour of remembered rain Hallows the gladness of a sunlit wood. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BIRTH OF VENUS by HAYDEN CARRUTH GETHSEMANE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON GOAL by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON IN WALKED BUD WITH A PALETTE by CLARENCE MAJOR SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: JACOB GODBEY by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |