Isabel Ecclestone Mackay

(25 November 1875 – 15 August 1928 / Canada)

The Crocus Bed - Poem by Isabel Ecclestone Mackay

YELLOW as the noonday sun,
Purple as a day that's done,
White as mist that lingers pale
On the edge of morning's veil,
Delicate as love's first kiss--
Crocuses are just like this.

Ere the robin paints his breast,
Ere the daffodil is drest,
Ere the iris' lovely head
Waves above her perfumed bed
Comes the crocus--and the Spring
Follows after, wing on wing!

Sweet perfection, holding up
Magic dew in topaz cup,
Alabaster, amethyst--
Curling lips which Earth has kissed,
Folded hearts where secrets hide,
Secrets old when Eve was bride!

Beauty's soul was born with wings,
Flight inspires all lovely things--
Would you gather rainbow fire?
See the rose of dawn's desire
Turn to ash beneath the moon?--
Crocuses must leave us soon.

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Poem Submitted: Monday, September 6, 2010



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