Sunday, January 15, 2017

Talking In Their Sleep

"You think I am dead,"
The apple tree said,
"Because I have never a leaf to show -
Because I stoop,
And my branches droop,
And the dull gray mosses over me grow!

"But I'm still alive in trunk and shoot;
The buds of next May
I fold away -
But I pity the withered grass at my root."

"You think I am dead,"
The quick grass said,
"Because I have parted with stem and blade!
But under the ground,
I am safe and sound
With the snow's thick blanket over me laid.

"I'm all alive, and ready to shoot,
Should the spring of the year
Come dancing here -
But I pity the flower without branch or root."

"You think I am dead,"
A soft voice said,
"Because not a branch or root I own.
I never have died, but close I hide
In a plumy seed that the wind has sown.

"Patient I wait through the long winter hours;
You will see me again -
I shall laugh at you then,
Out of the eyes of a hundred flowers.

Edith Matilda Thomas  (1854 - 1925)


Luna Crone said...


Luna Crone

local alien said...

Lovely poetry.

L. D. said...

It is a great one to read.

The Furry Gnome said...


Henny Penny said...

I've just caught up with your last three lovely posts. Glad you had fun visiting with your friends. I love the apple tree poem. First time I've seen that one.

Angela Gabhart said...

I'm catching up too! Beautiful poem and I'm being lazy today and watching the rain streak our windows too. Love days like these. A time to be still.

NotesFromAbroad said...

I love this so much :)

Hilary said...

I love this.

Anonymous said...

Makes one look at the brown, still, earth with hope.

Kim said...