Tell me what time it is, wise little flower! Answer me truthfully, now when I blow. Off goes your bonnet to show me the hour, All your white feathers go flying like snow. Off goes your bonnet—and plainly you say, "Mother is wanting you, hurry away!" Mother is wanting me, so I must run, But there's so much in this garden to do! Not more than half of my playing done. Why did I ever ask questions of @3you?@1 | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NO MATTER WHAT, AFTER ALL, AND THAT BEAUTIFUL WORD SO by HAYDEN CARRUTH CLEAR AND COLDER; BOSTON COMMON by ROBERT FROST FLOWER GUIDANCE by ROBERT FROST TIRED by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TWO POEMS FROM THE WAR: 1 by ARCHIBALD MACLEISH HOMAGE TO SEXTUS PROPERTIUS: 2 by EZRA POUND |