The girl's far treble, muted to the heat,
calls like a fainting bird across the fields
to where her flock lies panting for her voice,
their black horns buried deep in marigolds.
They climb awake, like drowsy butterflies,
and press their red flanks through the tall branched grass,
and as they go their wandering tongues embrace
the vacant summer mirrored in their eyes.
Led to the limestone shadows of a barn
they snuff their past embalmed in the hay,
while her cool hand, cupped to the udder's fount,
distils the brimming harvest of their day.
Look what a cloudy cream the earth gives out,
fat juice of buttercups and meadow-rye;
the girl dreams milk within her body's field
and hears, far off, her muted children cry.
Laurie Lee's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Milkmaid by Laurie Lee )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
- When You Speak to Your God, Robert Kane
- A Perception Of Love., richard harris
- Poetry of Motion, Jack Growden
- GAZA غزة, MOHAMMAD SKATI
- whats the point?, binod bastola
- If You Should Read This Poem, David Munene wa Kimberly
- Holy! Holy!, Naveed Khalid
- My Mother, Tony Adah
- Mutability, Naveed Khalid
- May Evening: Portrush East Strand, bryan wallace