Why was I born so late? I am longing
To say three things:
The lake is a mirror for flower bonnets
And preening wings.
Plum bloom scatters like snow, I tell you,
Like snow, like snow. . . .
Why have they said so over and over
Robbed of beauty and meaning the phrases
That say what's true;
Oh, I love you! Your eyes are the color
Of Heaven's blue.
__May Willams Ward.
May Williams Ward
(Atlanta: The Bozart Press. 1929)