Author Clara Shanafelt Her face is fair and smooth and fine, Childlike, with secret laughter lit; Drooping in pity, bright with wit, A flower, a flame ā God fashioned it. Who sees her tastes the sacred wine. Tags Short Poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments