AH, my darling, when over the purple horizon shall loom
The shrouded mother of a new idea, men hide their faces,
Cry out and fend her off, as she seeks her procreant groom,
Wounding themselves against her, denying her fecund embraces.
The Prophet
D. H. Lawrence (david Herbert Richards)
(1)
Poem topics: mother, purple, horizon, hide, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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