The thistle-down floats on the air, the air,
Whenever the soft wind blows,
And the wind can tell just where, just where
The feathery thistle-down goes.
And it tells the bird in a single word,
Who whispers it low to the bee;
And they try to keep the mystery deep,
And none of them tell it to me.
But I know well, though they never will tell,
Where the thistle-down goes when it says "Farewell,"
It floats and floats away on the air,
And goes where the wind goes - everywhere!
Thistle-down
Arthur Macy
(1)
Poem topics: away, farewell, never, bird, deep, single, mystery, soft, wind, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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