A Given Day.
A dear old Cornish friend would often say
When looking at a blue-topped winter sky
And pointing out the view - - 'A given day
This be - - a given day for we to try
To understand the why this day be not
The normal winter-grey, and be we glad
Me 'ansome Cornish lass, that God forgot
To wet our fields and lanes today with sad.'
Then buxom Rosie smiled and playfully
Waylaid me in her country-woman style
By confiding God had hid a gift this day,
A 'given' thing that if we searched would find.
She then would bend to pick a primrose eyeing
Us, and winking underneath a leaf - - 'The sun
Be caught in this, and all coming Spring beside, - -
Look lass, - - before this given thing be gone.'
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Comments about this poem (A Given Day. by Fay Slimm )
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