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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2197369
by Gita
Rated: E · Poetry · History · #2197369
My late mother was 16 years old when she wrote this in 1939.
Sic Transit Gloria Mundi

There reigned a sweet and silent eve.
Into my heart a summer breeze
A lazy web of dreams did weave,
And then I sailed on Beauty's seas.

A tree of ancient splendour stood,
In outline dark against the sky.
O Time, if you for ever could
Be still, and Beauty never fly!

The rapture that was in the air
Was gone, I heard a hawker cry
"War!" And I heard the trumpets blare!
And then I knew than men must die.


P. Lurie (1939)
© Copyright 2019 Gita (somonne at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2197369