English poetry

Poems in English

The Gentian weaves her fringes

The Gentian weaves her fringes

The Gentian weaves her fringes
The Maple’s loom is red
My departing blossoms
Obviate parade.

A brief, but patient illness
An hour to prepare,
And one below this morning
Is where the angels are
It was a short procession,
The Bobolink was there
An aged Bee addressed us
And then we knelt in prayer
We trust that she was willing
We ask that we may be.
Summer Sister Seraph!
Let us go with thee!

In the name of the Bee
And of the Butterfly
And of the Breeze Amen!



Poem The Gentian weaves her fringes - Emily Dickinson