Poetry of Kansas

Blighted

EVENING met the morning,
    When the bud began to bloom;
But the frost of night had blighted
    The sweet flower in its bloom.
 
Close then its petals folded
    And so quietly it lay,
A child of early morning,
    In death at close of day.
 
The blighting frosts of springtime,
    Have cut many proud hopes down,
While unfolding in their brightness___
    How all happiness has flown.
 
Man conceives a fancy picture
    Blooming with life's grandest hopes;
But his fostered hopes oft perish,
    When in saddened gloom he gropes.

__James A. DeMoss

 

Kansas Zephyrs
James A. DeMoss
(Thayer, Kansas: ___. 1892)
Page 43

 
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November 17, 2002 / John & Susan Howell / Wichita, Kansas / howell@kotn.org

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