Margaret Widdemer Poems

I have shut my little sister in from life and light
(For a rose, for a ribbon, for a wreath across my hair),
...

WHEN I was a young girl, all in a green arbor,
When I was a young girl in Springtimes gone by
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The War-god wakened drowsily;
There were gold chains about his hands.
He said: 'And who shall reap my lands
And bear the tithes to Death for me?
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Ours is a dark Easter-tide,
And a scarlet Spring,
But high up at Heaven-Gate
All the saints sing,
...

CROSSING through Heaven's doors,
If Heaven may be for me,
I shall not seek gold floors
Nor jasper wall nor sea;
...

But I was planting out my garden-close
With wands of lily and with slips of rose,
...

My mind is very swift and gay;
She flutters to and fro,
She knows a thousand things to play,
A thousand roads to go;
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HE will be cold tonight–
Always he felt it so.
(Strange not to lift the light,
Strange not to go,
...

IT was not when I plead with her,
And on a tragic day
Clung sobbing to her skirts of rose,
That Youth went away;
...

THERE were many flowers in my mother's garden,
Sword-leaved gladiolus, taller far than I,
Sticky-leaved petunias, pink and purple-flaring,
...