THE OPAL DREAM CAVE
Inan opal dream cave I found a fairy:Her wings were frailer than flower petals,Frailer far than snowflakes.She was not frightened, but poised on my finger,Then delicately walked into my hand.I shut the two palms of my hands togetherAnd held her prisoner.I carried her out of the opal cave,Then opened my hands.First she became thistledown,Then a mote in a sunbeam,Then—nothing at all.Empty now is my opal dream cave.1911.
Inan opal dream cave I found a fairy:Her wings were frailer than flower petals,Frailer far than snowflakes.She was not frightened, but poised on my finger,Then delicately walked into my hand.I shut the two palms of my hands togetherAnd held her prisoner.I carried her out of the opal cave,Then opened my hands.First she became thistledown,Then a mote in a sunbeam,Then—nothing at all.Empty now is my opal dream cave.1911.
Inan opal dream cave I found a fairy:Her wings were frailer than flower petals,Frailer far than snowflakes.She was not frightened, but poised on my finger,Then delicately walked into my hand.I shut the two palms of my hands togetherAnd held her prisoner.I carried her out of the opal cave,Then opened my hands.First she became thistledown,Then a mote in a sunbeam,Then—nothing at all.Empty now is my opal dream cave.
1911.