Thistle Down

By Ethel

Words

Write I...some words,
As feelings upward roll.
Trying in a measured way,
To tenderize my soul.

In speaking...as I pause,
Words that should be sung.
And lifted up in sincerity,
Right from off the tongue.

And giving to another's ears,
So sweet a sound.
As far off bells are heard,
Echoing out along the ground.

Resembling harps...set free,
To move along in rills.
And in soft vibrations,
To catch the tops of hills.

Letting love be told,
And rhythm make a start.
To catch the little murmurings,
That lie within my heart.

E.P. 1908 - 1989

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