Francis Turner

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Title:     Francis Turner
Author: Edgar Lee Masters [More Titles by Masters]

I COULD not run or play
In boyhood.
In manhood I could only sip the cup,
Not drink--For scarlet-fever left my heart diseased.
Yet I lie here
Soothed by a secret none but Mary knows:
There is a garden of acacia,
Catalpa trees, and arbors sweet with vines--
There on that afternoon in June
By Mary's side--
Kissing her with my soul upon my lips
It suddenly took flight.

[The end]
Edgar Lee Masters's poem: Francis Turner

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