Like the sweet apple that reddens
At end of the bough--
Far end of the bough--
Left by the gatherer's swaying,
Forgotten, so thou.
Nay, not forgotten, ungotten,
Ungathered (till now).
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Happy January
Hello, my friends. It's a new month and a new year! Since January is my birth month, I'm always excited when the year starts anew...
-
Many years ago in a faraway land called The Bronx, there lived a little girl named Michelle. Her mom affectionately called her Shell. When S... -
I am delighted to be part of Vanessa's Halloween Party. For all of you I have a faerie story to share. It was the night after Autumn ca...
-
I'm joining in on the magic, beauty and power of Haiku with the Haiku Festival hosted by Tracy and Elizabeth . Please go on and visit a...
1 comment:
What a pretty poem and I love the picture that goes with it, beautiful!
Post a Comment