Eleanor Farjeon Poems

Count the white horses you meet on the way,
Count the white horses, child day after day,
Keep a wish ready for wishing - if you
Wish on the ninth horse, your wish will come true.
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What is Poetry? Who knows?
Not a rose, but the scent of the rose;
Not the sky, but the light in the sky;
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Cat!
Atter her, atter her,
Sleeky flatterer,
Spitfire chatterer,
Scatter her, scatter her
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I am as awful as my brother War,
I am the sudden silence after clamour.
I am the face that shows the seamy scar
When blood and frenzy has lost its glamour.
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THE frost of the moon fell over my floor
And six green singers stood at my door.

'What do ye here that music make?'
'Let us come in for Christ's sweet Sake.'
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In a far land upon a day,
Where never snow did fall,
Three kings went riding on the way
Bearing presents all.
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The night will never stay,
The night will still go by,
Though with a million stars
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In the last letter that I had from France
You thanked me for the silver Easter egg
Which I had hidden in the box of apples
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When Joy and Molly on the lawn
Danced bare of foot like spirits of dawn
Jessica watched in wonderment
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The Shepherd and the King,
The Angel and the ****,
They heard Sweet Mary sing,
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