Poetósfera › La Biblioteca › Elizabeth Porter Gould
Elizabeth Porter Gould · Modernismo
inglés
She picks me June roses.
Were ever such roses?
Their fragrance would honor
The heavenly halls.
She finds me pet pansies.
Such wondrous-eyed pansies,
And lovely nasturtiums
That run on the walls.
Sweet peas she's now bringing,
While all the time singing.
And I? Ask the flowers
To tell what befalls.
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