SPRING DREAM
SPRING is that time when sleep and dream draw close
To life. Last night I dreamed I walked with you Along a grassy road to a white gate.
We drifted through on the warm leaf-bright air.
The birds invisible sang: there violets grew.
As large and soft as pansies, but they grew Under the water ; for a green stream flowed Beside the path, and those dark-headed flowers Glowed under water, and their shining leaves Stirred in the current and their smoky scent Rose faintly from the surface of that stream, Eddying in the air like visible smoke: Beyond that violet stream the banks reflected A paler primrose light, and in the air Hundreds of brimstone butterflies beat their wings, Creating a wilder light.
0 Spring and Dream and Vision—so entangled With birds and butterflies and leaves and streams That Life is Subterfuge and Death is Dream.
SHEILA SHANNON.
Previous page
