Bloom Of Youth
Your day will come little girl, little girl,
Be patient today and tomorrow.
Sip gently the nectar of awakening love,
Deep drafts are harbingers of sorrow.*
Guard wisely the blush of your opening bud-
One blossom is all you're allotted.
The body betrays and the heart is deceived
In throes of first passion besotted.
For many a dewdrop of love comes your way
To pluck at impatient heart strings,
But dew drops evaporate in the sun's ray,
Sip gently awaiting well-springs.
That first gentle thrill as your petals unfurl,
Like a breeze passing over the skin,
Can turn to a tempest and rage uncontrolled
To lead you astray from within.
Pluck not the bud and hand careless away-
No bud that is plucked ever blossoms
'Til down the footpaths of your slated day
True love will at last come a-walking.
*harbinger: a precedent; to go before
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Comments about this poem (Bloom Of Youth by Adeline Foster )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
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