He has about him a faint muskiness <br /> Not the musky aroma distilled <br /> With floral oils, <br /> But the fragrance of furrowed earth <br /> Mingled with heady barley and damp alfalfa. <br /> I know he is there <br /> Even before the sight of him: <br /> His power, his longing and tenderness <br /> And scent of the fields <br /> Call out in a clear, silent song.<br /><br />Florence Weber Mann<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/silent-song/
