BALLAD OF THE THORN TREE.

Always, I noticed, lovers lay Beneath a twisted tree That grew in such a starvéd way It seemed a mock to me. But when I questioned them, they’d say “Oh what is that to thee? Bright berries grow in lavish way Upon this bitter tree; Small scarlet lanterns swinging, they For lovers such as we.” Always I noticed lovers dreamed Beneath that furtive tree, And so I said not how it seemed Nor how it looked to me ... How all along the branches ran Sharp thorns like stabbing spears, How when the berries dropped away The thorns stayed through the years.... Oh, never do I speak of this To lovers loving free; The new fruit gleams above their kiss, The thorns they will not see.... Mayhap after such glowing red No thorn keeps agony, But no fond lover ere has said A thing like this to me.