Classic and Contemporary Poetry
TAMPA, by FRANKLIN N. WOOD First Line: Low, rambling docks along tidewater ways Last Line: The tinkling of a troubadour's guitar. Subject(s): Florida; Guitars; Music & Musicians; Tampa Bay | ||||||||
Low, rambling docks along tidewater ways, Delicious sunlight, spilling down the street In shallow, golden pools; the fragrant, sweet Perfume of oleanders, lazy days Beneath old palms, are memories that blaze, When through a northern blizzard's stormy sleet, I seem to hear the warm gulf's pulsing beat, And mocking birds, in madrigals of praise. When like a full-blown rose the sun droops down, In dreams, I see thee, glamorous port of call, Thy sapphire sea and glorious evening star; Within the Spanish quarter of the town, In fancy, I can hear, behind a wall, The tinkling of a troubadour's guitar. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FLORIDA MEMORIES by FRANKLIN N. WOOD PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 16. AL-KAHHAR by EDWIN ARNOLD IDEOGRAM by ALFRED GOLDSWORTHY BAILEY THE CALL OF THE DESERT by EMILY BALDWIN REBECCA; WHO SLAMMED DOORS FOR FUN AND PERISHED MISERABLY by HILAIRE BELLOC HEART'S EASE by MATHILDE BLIND HINC LACHRIMAE; OR THE AUTHOR TO AURORA: 9 by WILLIAM BOSWORTH |
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