Thoughts drift to me Sweet as breath of clover over meadows blown, Soothing as the ripple of a waterfall; They prance in frills of gossamer Through sun-flooded gardens Quickening my pulse with their movement and color; Pirouetting on leaf and stamen They weave a web from flower to flower Enmeshing me in silken filaments; A distant flash, a sound discordant And they are whirled to the deep recesses Whence they came. I hear the echo of their going as distant chimes Calling me. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LET ME NOT LOSES MY DREAM by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON CHAMBER MUSIC: 11 by JAMES JOYCE IRELAND; WRITTEN FOR THE ART AUTOGRAPH DURING IRISH FAMINE by SIDNEY LANIER BEFORE DAWN; SONNET by AMY LOWELL THE DESIRE OF NATIONS by EDWIN MARKHAM YOU SAY YOU SAID by MARIANNE MOORE |