Lesbia Harford Poems

A lady and I were walking
Where waters flow;
A lady and I were talking
Softly and slow.
...

I'm not his wife. I am his paramour:
His wayside love, picked up in journeying:
Rose of the hedgerows; fragrant, till he fling
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Child Sun
Why will you play Peep Bo
Now in, now out
The workroom window so?
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A bunch of lilac and a storm of hail
On the same afternoon! Indeed I know
Here in the South it always happens so,
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When I am so worn out I cannot sleep
And yet I know I have to work next day
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Sometimes I can see
When I teach
Half my children talk
Each to each.
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Today
I'd like to be a nun
And go and say
My rosary beneath the trees out there.
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Sometimes I think God has his days
For being friends.
He says: 'Forgive my careless ways.
No one pretends
...

I in the library,
Looking for books to read,
Pulled one out twice to see
If it fulfilled my need.
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Beauty does not walk through lovely days.
Beauty walks with horror in her hair.
Down long centuries of pleasant ways
...