Design
Shining and white, like wax beneath gold flame,
and noiseless as dew’s tread on flower-tips,
her hand brushed shadows on the moonlight’s face.
Blue night stood still, and stars stopped chattering
while loveliness communed. What wonder that
divinity is dimpled in a rose?
God’s thought in fragile beauty shaped its root,
minute perfection in each small detail
alike of woman’s hand or bud-crowned stem.
Evelyn Coffey
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