17.6.10

A poem on Thursday : Blue Wings




Blue Wings, bu George Eliot (Mary Ann Evans)

Warm whisp'ring through the slender olive leaves
Came to me a gentle sound, 
Whis'pring of a secret found
In the clear sunshine 'mid the goldern sheaves:

Said it was sleeping for me in the moon, 
Called it gladness, called it joy, 
Drew me on 'Come hither, boy.'
To where the blue wings rested on the corn.

I thought the gentle sound had whispered true

Thought the little heaven mine, 

Leaned to clutch the thing divine, 
And saw the blue wings melt within the blue!

3 comments:

ALFIE said...

this is so very lovely!

Diana Mieczan said...

Beautiful...I love those posts:)
muah darling and happy Thursday:)

Anonymous said...

Love your selections of poetry. Perhaps it is time to add to your creative pursuits by beginning to pen your own words of inspiration. SB