Sunday Morning, 1891 - Edmund Blair Leighton
O' lovely maid, in solitaire
so fair of cheek and silken hair
A wistful look upon her face
It matters not that she is late
This Sunday morning at the gate
she halts as if to hesitate
and looks around with hopeful chance
as if to take a second glance
for someone whom we cannot see
who stands in shadows out of view
to join her in the morning dew.
Perchance her love will join her there
and stroll with her in autumn air
She waits a moment at the gate
with silver threads laced over blue
a shawl of pink and flowered hat
in pastel shades of vast array
Blended scents of wild bouquet
where grasses grow beyond the road
in golden waves of amber hue
Flowers sprouting here and there
A steeple sits upon the hill
A stroller on his way to church
admires with secret glance
I wonder if she'll stroll the path
or if she'll turn the other way
to walk until she finds a place
to sit and pray, or fall from grace...
Or worship God in her own way
embraced by Sunday's autumn day
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Inspired By Isaiah Zerbst's Contest: Edmund Blair Leighton Paintings
Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2013
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment