The Gleaner
By Virna Sheard
As children gather daisies down green ways
Mid butterflies and bees,
To-day across the meadows of past days
I gathered memories.
I stored my heart with harvest of lost hours -
With blossoms of spent years;
Leaves that had known the sun of joy, and hours
Drenched with the rain of tears.
And perfumes that were long ago distilled
From April's pink and white,
Again with all their old enchantment, filled
My spirit with delight.
From out the limbo where lost roses go
The place we may not see,
With all its petals sweet and half-ablow,
One rose returned to me.
Where falls the sunlight chequered by the shade
On meadows of the past,
I gathered blossoms that no sun can fade
No winter wind can blast.