|
Classic and Contemporary Poetry
FLORIDA MEMORIES, by FRANKLIN N. WOOD First Line: The old rose color of crepe myrtle trees Last Line: That salt taste on my lips -- must be a tear. Subject(s): Tears | |||
The old rose color of crepe myrtle trees Waving against a time-stained plaster wall, The sweetness of a mocking bird's low call, Faint orange blossom scents, a lazy breeze, Are woven into haunting memories, Recalling magic isles and glamorous ports Where crumbling mission walls and ancient forts Drowse in the sparkling glare of tropic seas. A flock of sea gulls, arguing with the sun, Slide down the wind into a snowy spray, Low clouds, like rolls of carded wool, drift near; But soon, the sea gulls vanish one by one, My dream ends with a northern wintry day -- That salt taste on my lips -- must be a tear. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BANGLA DESH: 2. THE BLOOD IN MY EYES by FAIZ AHMED FAIZ TIME ROCKING ON by ANSELM HOLLO TEARS AND KISSES by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON DOMESDAY BOOK: GEORGE JOSLIN ON LA MENKEN by EDGAR LEE MASTERS HOW FAR IS IT TO THE LAND WE LEFT? by NAOMI SHIHAB NYE |
|