A Violin At Dusk Poem by Lizette Woodworth Reese
A Violin At Dusk
Stumble to silence, all you uneasy things,
That pack the day with bluster and with fret.
For here is music at each window set;
Here is a cup which drips with all the springs
That ever bud a cowslip flower; a roof
To shelter till the argent weathers break;
A candle with enough of light to make
My courage bright against each dark reproof.
A hand's width of clear gold, unraveled out
The rosy sky, the little moon appears;
As they were splashed upon the paling red,
Vast, blurred, the village poplars lift about.
I think of young, lost things: of lilacs; tears;
I think of an old neighbor, long since dead.
Wonderful poetry. The perfect use of description allowed me to hear the music.
A highly contemplative and pensive piece filled with the beauty of a violin at dusk stirring up inner thoughts and imaginative images. Quite profound!
Enough of light to make! ! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
This is a beautiful poem on music having touching expression and nice collocation.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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12/11/2024 5:19:05 PM # 1.0.0
One of the best poems by Lizette Woodworth Reese.........