His eye is persuaded

                        by the glowing air

                                       of a wreath of daisies.

                                                      The barer takes him

                             to a secret garden.

---

This Eden is full of rarer

    and varied plants,

             more vivid tones

                   and tunes of chanting birds

                               to his content.

                                            Sometimes,

                                                             perhaps...

---

                                                                        ...he longs for the daisies.

Soon would all they withered, and would the soil turn arid. The small white flowers are turned to golden brown now, like a fall’s vision, and would soon vanish in the air.

It is, indeed, a lovely vision, and though his eye of dreaming past will forever keep a fresher picture, just perhaps, perhaps, he did long for the smell and the roundness, and the smoothness of that wreath of daisies.

Source

Thanks for reading.

See you tomorrow with another poem.

Reading Notes: Advanced

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