Labouring's Homing Beat Poem by james watkin
Labouring's Homing Beat
'Be calm, ye hearts. Quieten down.
As your agitator
Has it run its full course, Day.
Mild through mists, slipped away'.
Gentle counsel. As soft heard
Intoned no breezes through
But what, passed of them, shake out
Finest of fir's nods.
Then dimmer, for mire's plumed rods
Such in agreement too.
Warringal park
Tuesday, August 9, 2022
Topic(s) of this poem: evening,tired
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1/21/2026 3:22:50 PM # 1.0.0
