For one carved instant as they flew,
The language had no simile-
Silver, crystal, ivory
Were tarnished. Etched upon the horizon blue,
The frieze must go unchallenged, for the lift
And carriage of the wings would stain the drift
Of stars against a tropic indigo
Or dull the parable of snow.
Now settling one by one
Within green hollows or where curled
Crests caught the spectrum from the sun,
A thousand wings are furled.
No clay-born lilies of the world
Could blow as free
As those wild orchids of the sea.
Sea-gulls
E. J. Pratt
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Poem topics: green, sea, silver, simile, snow, sun, world, wild, blue, horizon, language, spectrum, crystal, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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