LITTLE songs like fairies winging
Down the happy star-ways, falling,
When you heard his fancy singing
Many a joy of gold and blue,
Glancing, gleaming, dancing, dreaming,
Did you hear him laughing, calling.
Calling you?
Little songs he spied and caught you
Though you dallied, weeping, praying;
Through bright woodlands wild he brought you
Under skies of white and blue;
Glancing, gleaming, dancing, dreaming.
Where you played he lingered playing,
Playing too.
Little songs he left you, dying;
Songs that could not find him, hollow
With sick pining, lured him, sighing;
And his dreams of gold and blue,
Glancing, gleaming, dancing, dreaming.
These are lost until we follow,
Follow too.
(E J Rupert Atkinson)
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Based on Topics: Death & Dying Poems, Joy & Excitement Poems, Happiness Poems, Gold Poems, Prayers Poems, Dancing Poems, Dreaming PoemsBased on Keywords: dallied