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Rose Pogonias by Robert Frost in Honor of My Brave Spring Flowers

Despite our crazy Missouri weather, my spring flowers are blooming. The lovely colors are sure to bear the crystals of frost during our cold weather this weekend, but they are not deterred by Mother Nature’s last homage to winter. In honor of these lovely flowers, today’s nod to National Poetry Month is a beautiful piece by Robert Frost.

Rose Pogonias By Robert Frost

A saturated meadow, Sun-shaped and jewel-small, A circle scarcely wider Than the trees around were tall; Where winds were quite excluded, And the air was stifling sweet With the breath of many flowers,— A temple of the heat.

These were bowed us in the burning, As the sun’s right worship is, To pick where none could miss them A thousand orchises; For though the grass was scattered, Yet every second spear Seemed tipped with wings of color, That tinged the atmosphere.

We raised a simple prayer Before we left the spot, That in the general mowing That place might be forgot; Or if not all is favoured, Obtain such grace of hours, That none should mow the grass there While so confused with flowers.

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