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| Poems by Women |
Blue Squills
How many million Aprils came
Before I ever
knew
How white a cherry bough could be,
A bed of squills, how blue.
And many a dancing April
When life is done with me,
Will lift the
blue flame of the flower
And the white flame of the tree.
Oh, burn me with your beauty, then,
Oh, hurt me, tree and
flower,
Lest in the end death try to take
Even this glistening hour.
O shaken flowers, O shimmering trees,
O sunlit white and
blue,
Wound me, that I through endless sleep
May bear the scar of
you.
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) |
