Author H. A. Giles A wilderness alone remains, all garden glories gone; the river runs unheeded by, weeds grow unheeded on. Dusk comes, the east wind blows, and birds pipe forth a mournful sound; Petals, like nymphs from balconies, come tumbling to the ground. 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