Treasure Island

Theodosia Garrison

(1874-1944 / United States)

The Wedding Gown


She put her wedding-gown away
As tenderly as one might close,
With kissing lips and finger-tips,
The petals of a rose
Still held for the Belovèd's sake—
The loveliest that blows.

She put her wedding-gown away
The quiet place was all astir
With vague perfume that filled the room,
Cedar and lavender,
Yet sweeter still about it clung
The fragrant thoughts of her.

She put her wedding-gown away
Yet lingered where its whiteness gleamed
As one above a sleeping Love,
Oh, thus it was she seemed,
Reluctant still to turn and go
And leave him as he dreamed.

Submitted: Wednesday, April 21, 2010

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (The Wedding Gown by Theodosia Garrison )

Enter the verification code :

  • Sandra Hillawi (3/8/2012 1:58:00 AM)

    I loved this poem, imagery and rhythm capturing the moment beautifully. Thankyou for sharing. Sandra: -) (Report) Reply

Read all 1 comments »

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  9. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. No need to ask, gajanan mishra
  2. Truth, Tony Adah
  3. Walking the dog, Nassy Fesharaki
  4. Prince Charming, Electric Lady
  5. With promising words, hasmukh amathalal
  6. pray to me, tara mahdavi
  7. pray, tara mahdavi
  8. Shame, gajanan mishra
  9. Wisdom and Sacrifice, Steven Rhoads
  10. The Twilight Zone, Neela Nath

Poem of the Day

poet Henry David Thoreau

My books I'd fain cast off, I cannot read,
'Twixt every page my thoughts go stray at large
Down in the meadow, where is richer feed,
And will not mind to hit their proper targe.
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]