Grace Moore Kimata Poems

I dreamed a dream of distant lands
Beyond the seagull's cry;
And while I dreamed, the hills turned green
And spring went by.
...

Grant me a little light, dear Lord,
That I may carry with me through the year,
A little bit of sunlight for my soul
To dry away a grief, to stop a tear.
...

Through my window pane
I watch the winter go,
I see the falling snow
Turn into rain.
...

Kisses are too saccharine;
They will not do.
And so for all the joys we've shared
I bring instead
...