After I finished my handicraft
We'll go together full of apples in the basket.
The far away isolated park where a bench is alone since last year.
A year has passed but you are still stuck in the town.
You have forgotten my address and at least a single line to say hello!
I know that you are busy in the ruined Manor among the maid servants.
Coming Christmas I am already twenty two and I am scared as my aunt
She is sixty two and still a spinster.
Much to read between the lines in this provocative poem. Fascinating read, Nimal. Warm regards, Sandra
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A sad tale of love and abandonment. Your country lass with her cane basket reminds us all of all those hard working souls disappointed in love. Spinster is such an evocative word and you use it with great emotional weight in this fine poem. love, Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥