A Cherry Stump Poem by james watkin

A Cherry Stump



In its crowning season, of golden
Warming bands conferred round
Wove it a blossomy circlet, pink
Honoured with the bee's sound.

What freshest recalling can but less
Phantom-foamy paint now.
In minute to minute's touching up
Like Fragonard each bough.*

Less airily spectacular;
Less unterrestrial.
Of the Divine Mystery, in spring
Twas breathed on after all!


* french painter (1732-1806)

Monday, October 7, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: flower,tree
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james watkin

james watkin

Melbourne Australia
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