The little child crosses the street--
Why does she wave to me?
What sees she in my wasted form
To hail so joyously?
Her olive face and curly hair
Are tidings of earth-peace,
Her golden smile's a wreath of joy
That bids my sorrows cease.
To me she is a fairy sprite--
A heavenly harbringer
Whose sun-kissed eyes are songs of God--
But what am I to her?
Why?
Joseph Seamon Cotter
(1)
Poem topics: child, fairy, god, hair, joy, peace, smile, sun, earth, face, street, olive, golden, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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