MY MOTHER'S face is fair— Soft darkness is her hair, Like folded wings it lies Above her shining eyes. The breeze that passes by Is like my mother's sigh— Between my hands I press Sweet perfumes from her dress. Her smile is swift and gay; It comes and slips away, And I can never find Where it has hid behind. Her feet along the ground Make a most lovely sound! And when my mother's there No fear is anywhere— Oh, I should like to buy The moon out of the sky And place it in her hand So she would understand! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CONTRA MORTEM: THE WHEEL OF BEING II by HAYDEN CARRUTH DEDICATION IN THESE DAY by HAYDEN CARRUTH THE AWAKENING by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON THE ROAD TO AVIGNON by AMY LOWELL THE DESIRE OF NATIONS by EDWIN MARKHAM SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: J. MILTON MILES by EDGAR LEE MASTERS ASHURNATSIRPAL III by CARL SANDBURG |