Guarded within the old red wall's embrace, <br />Marshalled like soldiers in gay company, <br />The tulips stand arrayed. Here infantry <br />Wheels out into the sunlight. What bold grace <br />Sets off their tunics, white with crimson lace! <br />Here are platoons of gold-frocked cavalry, <br />With scarlet sabres tossing in the eye <br />Of purple batteries, every gun in place. <br />Forward they come, with flaunting colours spread, <br />With torches burning, stepping out in time <br />To some quick, unheard march. Our ears are dead, <br />We cannot catch the tune. In pantomime <br />Parades that army. With our utmost powers <br />We hear the wind stream through a bed of flowers.<br /><br />Amy Lowell<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-tulip-garden/
