A Spring Lambent? - Poem by Dan Reynolds
The crumbling o’ the dry-stane dike
Its saddened sedimentary state
Hard graft, the farmer’s lads won’t like
But to the sheep? An extra gate!
A chance to wander, early doors
To taste sweet grass that lay in wait
By steps, at last each lamb explores
Too soon the mint sauce, for their mate.
Enjoy your frolics in the field
In pastoral casinos sat
The dinner table soon revealed.
I bet you didn’t gambol on that.
Comments about A Spring Lambent? by Dan Reynolds
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You