Something is calling … calling through the rain,–
I heard it first when I was but a child,
Careless, among rose-brambles running wild.
I heard it next when loss sent swordlike pain
That cut my moorings … thrust me from the shore:
My laughter checked, quenched too my life’s desire,–
Spring withered then. And now an autumn fire
Is drifting fragrant woodsmoke through my door.
Evoking only placid memories …
Suggests that peace dwells in an ordered place,
And weaves a screening veil before my face.
But always, always, keen expectancies
Break through the gentle patting of fall rain,–
Not lullabies, I ask,– but life again!
(Jewell Miller)
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Based on Topics: Faces Poems, Place Poems, Fire Poems, Spring Poems, Desire Poems, Autumn PoemsBased on Keywords: screening, patting, evoking, woodsmoke, swordlike, expectancies