Home / Fiction / Classic Fiction / Fountains


Published: July 18, 2009
Caged fountains through the starlit summer night
Have tender voices, like a mother’s song,
Or like a passing flock of birds in flight,
While some the measure of a tune prolong
As though their waters held a lover’s voice
That whispered of delights the moon could tell.
Fountains can grieve and can as well rejoice,
Sound threnodies or ring a marriage bell.
To one attuned to hear the silver flute,
They have a message, resonant and clear;
Fountains are never silent, never mute;
They always answer to the listening ear.
Whatever in the heart deep-hidden dwells,
A starlit fountain truly, surely tells.

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  • Jesuit

    Because poets, generally, don’t garner sufficient recognition, I–who am certainly less than lyrical–must step forward and congratulate Ms. Thornton on the beauty of her work. She was kind enough to share and interpret what the fountains said to her spirit.
    The waters do, indeed, speak to us.