He stooped and kissed the petals rare. With eagerness I did persist To see the flower the angel kissed. And there it grew a thing intact, The flower upon my lady’s hat. It stood a straight slim tossing flame And I had yet to learn its name. With this in mind I tried to talk, But the angel only sped his walk. I could have cried for very shame, Then someone called me by my name. The room was pink with morning light, Because dreams vanish with the night; And things are not what they seem, I called the little flower “dream.” {75} Shine and Shower IT’S the cross that makes the triumph I A glorious thing to share,