| Poems by Women |
Orchard
I saw the first pear
As it fell --
The
honey-seeking, golden-banded,
The yellow swarm
Was not more fleet than
I,
(Spare us from loveliness)
And I fell prostrate
Crying:
You have
flayed us
With your blossoms,
Spare us the beauty
Of fruit-trees.
The honey-seeking
Paused not,
The air thundered their song,
And I
alone was prostrate.
O rough-hewn
God of the orchard,
I bring you an offering --
Do you,
alone unbeautiful,
Son of the god,
Spare us from loveliness:
These fallen hazel-nuts,
Stripped late of their green sheaths,
Grapes,
red-purple,
Their berries
Dripping with wine,
Pomegranates already
broken,
And shrunken figs
And quinces untouched,
I bring you as
offering.
From: Rittenhouse, Jessie B.
The Second Book of Modern Verse (1919).
This poet:
[Author index]
This collection assembled by Jone Johnson Lewis.
Collection © 1999-2002 Jone Johnson Lewis.
Citing poems from these pages:
| Author. "Poem Title." Women's History: Poems by Women. Jone Johnson Lewis, editor. URL: (date of logon) |
