Gifted Stool - Poem by William Coyne
A gift for me? A sturdy stool,
to rest on by a stream or pool,
while reading verses, short or long,
of lovely ladies, wights or song.
No need for oak, strong pine will do,
no cushioned seat, no rich-stained hue,
and very short, close to the ground,
to wiggle my toes in the grass around.
And when I am dead and buried somewhere,
I'll leave it nearby for others to share.
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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye