I had not thought of violets of late,
The wild, shy kind that spring beneath your feet
In wistful April days, when lovers mate
And wader the the fields in raptures sweet.
– Alice Moor Dunbar–Nelson
Week’s Beginning Writing-Meditation
I had not thought of violets of late,
The wild, shy kind that spring beneath your feet
In wistful April days, when lovers mate
And wader the the fields in raptures sweet.
– Alice Moor Dunbar–Nelson
A Writer's Life 