Liilia Talts Morrison Poems

A wooden bed and mat of straw
a little wayside room
where people cannot bother me
but sun can warm the gloom
...

Time came when burlap and coarse cloth
had been trod down into dark mud
so deep, so dark, so hopeless then
it seemed to vanish into peat
...

When Ma has stopped her sweeping
And Pa snuffed out the lamps
And all the world is sleeping
It’s time for tales by Gramps
...

He rides among the highways
where dawn has strewn her veils
his mane blends into sunsets
his hooves leave clouds as trails
...

Christmas is for children
Time to make a fuss
Christmas is for old and young
And every one of us
...

Abundance is a lovely thing
who wouldn't want to have it?
a cellar filled with summer fruit
and fields a sea of heather
...

Salty fish in crusted brine
dark brown bread with sour wine
cod and herring pickled long
sauerkraut fermented strong
...

We were just little children
In war torn wayside lanes
Yet roses were still blooming
In fields of pink and white
...

In the southern soil of India
Thrives a thick, beloved plant
Leaves of gold are tipped with rose hues
And its oil enhances chants
...

I yearn to sit on ocean's edge
When wind and rain are raging
While clinging to a rocky ledge
Feel God's great power engaging
...