A Child at the Tropic Pavilions

A CHILD AT THE TROPIC PAVILIONS

    from The Throne of Psyche

The smolderings of Pele’s hair

    Are her delight, with fires

Of eucalyptus in the rain

    And coral’s glowing spires.

A  braided crown of palm adorns

    Her buoyant curls, and leis

Of frangipani scent her throat:

    She has no need of praise,

For sea’s auroral whisperings

    Aren’t secrets to her ear--

Her counselors with gaudy wings

    Suddenly appear

To sing of castles made of sand

    And childish dignity

That takes the throne in Chinese silk,

    With parrots on each knee.

                        for Rebecca Beatrice Miller