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If I am slow forgetting, It is because the sun Has such old tricks of setting When April days are done. The soft spring sunlight traces Old patterns -- green and gold; The flowers have no new faces, The very buds are old! If I am slow forgetting -- Ah, well, come back and see The same old sunbeams petting My garden-plots and me. Come smell the green things growing, The boxwood after rain; See where old beds are showing Their slender spears again. At dusk, that fosters dreaming -- Come back at dusk and rest, And watch our old star gleaming Against the primrose west. Margaret Lee Ashley |
 If you have any suggestions or questions regarding these poems please email me |
