The Farm-Wife's Wake
S
Sheena Blackhall
0
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My aunt was like a tumbled sheaf of corn
Her hair was fair as ripened, rippling grain
Her speech was gentle as the summer rain
She loved all beasts, but dearest, those new born
And for her funeral flowers, to ease her rest
The ghosts of violets, speedwell, cornflowers blue
Her mourners, clucking hens of speckled hue
Wobble-legged calves, and thrushes in the nest
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş