The rose petals fall—
The red petals of my heart;
Oh, the breath of love!
Cool, sweet tears
Of honey, the jasmine weeps;
Burning fall the tears of love.
Oh, how bitter
Is the White Poppy, Death;
There are no more dreams of love.
Jeanne Robert Foster
ALCHEMY
I lift my heart as spring lifts up
A yellow daisy to the rain;
My heart will be a lovely cup
Altho' it holds but pain.
For I shall learn from flower and leaf
That color every drop they hold,
To change the lifeless wine of grief
To living gold.
Sara Teasdale