Poetry Archives

Under the orchard trees daffodils danced
 And jostled, turning sideways to the wind.
A dropping cherry petal softly glanced
 Over her hair, and slid away behind.
At the far end through twisted cherry-trees
 The old house glowed, geranium-hued, with bricks
    Bloomed in the sun like roses, low and long,
 Gabled, and with quaint tricks
Of chimneys carved and fretted.  Out of these
Grey smoke was shaken, which the faint Spring breeze
    Tossed into nothing.  Then a thrush’s song