SONG – Poetry, by Amy Lowell

She was born to wealth, because her paternal grandfather developed the cotton industry of Massachusetts, where two towns (Lowell and Lawrence), are named for the families. Amy Lowell began a lifelong habit of book collecting, accepting a marriage proposal, but the young man set his heart on another woman. She went to Europe and Egypt, to improve her health. 1910, was born her first poem, and she published her first collection of poetry “A Dome of Many-Coloured Glass”, and in 1914, her second book of poetry “Sword Blades and Poppy Seeds”. https://www.amazon.com/Amy-Lowell-Selected-American-Project/dp/1931082707

SONG

Oh! To be a flower nodding in the sun, bending, then upspringing as the breezes run. Holding up a scent-brimmed cup, full of summer’s fragrance to the summer sun. Oh! To be a butterfly, still, upon a flower, winking with its painted wings, happy in the hour. Blossoms hold mines of gold, deep within the farthest heart of each chaliced flower. Oh! To be a cloud, blowing through the blue, shadowing the mountains, rushing loudly through valleys deep, where torrents keep, always their plunging thunder and their misty arch of blue. Oh! To be a wave, splintering on the sand, drawing back, but leaving, lingeringly the land. Rainbow light flashes bright, telling tales of coral caves half hid in yellow sand. Soon they die, the flowers. Insects live a day. Clouds dissolve in showers. Only waves at play, last forever. Shall endeavor make a sea of purpose mightier than we dream to-day?