Sunday, May 31, 2015


After the Winter

Some day, when trees have shed their leaves
    And against the morning’s white
The shivering birds beneath the eaves
    Have sheltered for the night,
We’ll turn our faces southward, love,
    Toward the summer isle
Where bamboos spire to shafted grove
    And wide-mouthed orchids smile.
And we will seek the quiet hill
    Where towers the cotton tree,
And leaps the laughing crystal rill,
    And works the droning bee.
And we will build a cottage there
    Beside an open glade,
With black-ribbed blue-bells blowing near,
    And ferns that never fade.
     ---Claude McKay 1889-1948


Debbie Nolan said...

Ah Rhonda - a very lovely poem. One I have never read before. Thank you so much for sharing. Hope you have a great week. Hugs!

RH Carpenter said...

Glad you enjoyed it, Debbie :)