Helene Johnson, "Rustic Fantasy" (1929)
The white bellied frog
Forsakes the water and its tail for land.
The wild sow and her shoats
Make defloration of the forest fruits.
A roebuck leads a troop of fallow deer
To a fragrant field of clover.
Despite the marten,
The mole ejects her young,
Is anchoret again in snug seclusion.
Hermes rests beneath the cool shade of a date tree
His lips thirsty for an open gourd.
The bees are warm with honey . . .
Published in Saturday Evening Quill, 1929