Poems By Arjava

APRICOT bloom we weave on our loom,

And tassels of silk we will Spin—

The silver and gold which the sallows unfold,

Or dark red where the cobnuts begin.

From a rainbow vat we draw the cravat

For the drake with his emerald gleam,

And a bridegroom suit for the crested newt

And thetiddlers that joust in the stream.

With satin-cloth white we garnish the height

Of the grim winter hedgegrow bare—

For the stitchwort spray has hidden away

The bonesof a by-gone year.

But along the hem ground ivy stem

Invades with a purply-blue,

Dog-violets rove in paler mauve

With hyacinths piercing through.

Of azure shade the clutch is laid

In the neat hedgesparrow's nest,

And the life she rears all unawares

Fulfils Love's agelong quest.