Okay, two Milly Jourdain poems today. Poem #1 shows why she drives me nuts. Poem #2 shows why I'm doing this copying project. Try to write a better poem than Poem #2. You could, but it would be hard.

A Dream Journey

Milly Jourdain

The rain is falling cold and grey,

But spring is in the air;

And thinking of a warmer land

I wish that I were there.

I see around me in the grass,

Like stars of tender blue,

The little crocus growing wild

And making all things new.

I lie upon a sun-warmed hill

And thundering hear the waves below,

A breath from hidden violets

Comes when the wind doth blow.

Anemones with coloured heads

And hidden deep-black eyes

Are growing near the glimpse of sea,

Whose slow noise never dies.

At last I wake in evening light

And hear the sky-larks sing

Above the fields all glistening-wet

And green with early spring.

"The Floods Are Risen . . . "

Milly Jourdain

The great white sea has flooded all the land,

And little waves are blown against the path

With tiny sounds like dry and restless throbs:

A white-sailed boat skims like a frightened moth

Into the dusk: the grey clouds grow darker

And dim the yellow light; we turn and leave

The cold wind blowing on the ruffled sea.

A poem like this second one leaves me thinking: what could she have been, this writer, if the cards had been stacked otherwise? Oh, that boat skimming like a frightened moth. I see it in my dreams.