ON NORMAN ROCKWELL'S "SPRINGTIME"
She came to him that April day,
But he did not know 'twas she.
He thought it only was the wind
That whispered "spring" to him...
For tho' he felt--he could not see--
Her silken dress of ivory.
Nor could he see, but he did smell
The wreath of daisies 'round her sun-drenched hair.
He thought the scent was just the breath
Of flowers breathing everywhere.
And he could taste a sweetness like honeybees' nectar
In the balmy April breeze,
Not knowing 'twas her feather-light perfume
Floating on the air with care.
Yes, altho' invisible was she,
Spring came to him that April day.
She placed a butterfly kiss on his cheek,
And then--she flew away....