"Pourquoi," she breathed, then drooped her head,
(Pure snow-drifts to the sunset wed)
As all my weakness I confessed.
I shewed how I had done my best,
Though long ago I should have fled,
Knowing all hope, for me, was dead;
And now my heart would die, unfed.
She murmured low, (was it in jest?)
"Pourquoi?"
That winsome face, all rosy red, -
I turned towards me, - gone was dread!
She came as birdlings to their nest
At eventide; so was I blest
By that one precious, softly-said
"Pourquoi?"
Rondeau. - Pourquoi?
Sophie M. (almon) Hensley
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Poem topics: heart, hope, red, snow, sunset, head, long, face, pure, precious, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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