Poised in a sheeny mist
Of the dust of bloom,
Clasped to the poppy's breast and kissed,
Baptized in violet perfume
From foot to plume!
Zephyr loves thy wings
Above all lovable things,
And brings them gifts with rapturous murmurings:
Thine is the golden reach of blooming hours;
Spirit of flowers!
Music follows thee,
And, continually,
Thy life is changed and sweetened happily,
Having no more than roseleaf shade of gloom,
O bird of bloom!
Thou art a wingèd thought
Of tropical hours,
With all the tropic's rare bloom-splendor fraught,
Surcharged with beauty's indefinable powers,
Angel of flowers!
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Comments1Wow, this poem really hit me in the feels! It's like one beautiful burst of color after another. Can't help but imagining myself in a field of poppies, with hummingbirds, butterflies, and a whispering breeze. The lines about music following the bird are just magical; makes me want to swap lives with that hummingbird for a day or two! Every word here is like a vivid painting; really transports you to another world. Loved reading it!