April Madrigal

Softly it stole up out of the sea —
in those charmed ages dark and rich
before your atoms came together.
We floated in the idle breeze,
just two lilies on a stem –
a secret of the spheres long hid.
Two hundred years ago, they say.
All day the lime blows in the sun,
the orchards all a-flutter with pink.
Once they were one, as the light is —
like some immortal heathen thing.
Into this world with April, you –
When the great breezes call
what love do I bring you?
The earth.
= = = = =
Harriet Prescott Spofford (03 apr 1835 – 14 aug 1921) US poet, novelist, short story writer
Spofford, Harriet Prescott. “An April Madrigal, An Old Song, Candlemas, Cavete Felices , Granadan Girl’s Song, Inside Plum Island, Left Ashore, Marion, Measure for Measure, On the Bust, Song, The Birthday, The Pine Tree, Twain, Two.” Poems. Boston: Houghton, Mifflin, 1882. Print.