An Old Song Poem by Dorothea Mackellar
An Old Song
The almond bloom is overpast, the apple blossoms blow.
I never loved but one man, and I never told him so.
My flowers will never come to fruit, but I have kept my pride -
A little, cold, and lonely thing, and I have naught beside.
The spring-wind caught my flowering dreams, they lightly blew away.
I never had but one true love, and he died yesterday.
The spring-wind caught my flowering dreams, they lightly blew away. I never had but one true love, and he died yesterday. A very fine poem of Dorothea. . tony
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4/25/2024 7:42:52 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Such a beautiful inspiration to us all. Lovely words that make my heart sing!