On boughs a-tremble with the rain,
The blown white flowers of the plum
Their fragile hold awhile retain.
And though tempestuous tears have come
Between us, and a startled moan
From mouths that kisses have made dumb -
Still, still, the gentler tears atone,
And still we keep our April love,
Like poising petals all unflown.
Plum-flowers
Clark Ashton Smith
(2)
Poem topics: rain, white, hold, april, love, I love you, april fools, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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Angela Rogers: I really enjoyed this poem... it is truly beautiful and very touching...
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