Sylvan Reverie

His symphony is played when the eastern light
diffuses into the western night,
Abundant in sweetness, companion to spring.
In calling me from slumber this music of His
feathered ones
Is of such tensiled beauty as though coming from another life,
A dream too distant to grasp, yet real and here.
Beyond wonder, it plays in the endless halls
of the heavens.

by Dorothy Ardelle Merriam

Other poems of DOROTHY ARDELLE MERRIAM (3)

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