Page:Anthology of Magazine Verse (1921).djvu/208

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WOMEN AND ORCHARDS
An orchard in the valley, An orchard on the hill,One has flowers yet to flaunt All in a lacy frill— One is bleak and still.
The apple trees were prudent And calm of bud and root,For it's the careful blossom, The cool, reluctant shoot, That come to certain fruit.
Nearer to sky the peach trees, Breathless, every one,Lifted high pink petals On tiptoe for a run Tingling to the sun—
Open-eyed and innocent, Their tenderness was tossedAll in a loving impulse For a rose kiss and lost Hideously in frost.
Say what you will for beauty That takes all spring to tellHow white it is—brief blossoms, That flamed before they fell, Were beautiful as well.
So some can taste fulfillment From a heavy valley tree,While some climb up a hillside Black with scars to be Comforted—like me.
Contemporary VerseWinifred Welles

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