Basket Dance - Poem by Amy Lowell
The priest is yellow with sunflower meal,
He is yellow with corn-meal,
He is yellow as the sun.
His little bells are ringing,
The bells tinkle like sunlight,
The sun is rising.
Perhaps I will throw you a basket,
Perhaps I will throw you my heart.
Lift the baskets, dancing,
Lower the baskets, dancing,
We have raised fruits,
Now we dance.
Our shadows are long,
The sunlight is bright between our shadows.
Do you want my basket?
But you cannot catch me,
I am more difficult.
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