Old Gate, A Garden's Poem by james watkin
Old Gate, A Garden's
Yes, dear plantings; I've closed it!
On all who in down-crashing
A babes' sleep, caterpillar- stepping
Would as soft not wake a sigh!
With no finger to unlatch
No foot to leap it's iron
Clumsy-minded, the notion
Of peeving winds passed me by!
Monday, May 4, 2020
Topic(s) of this poem: plants,wind
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9/21/2024 7:01:04 PM # 1.0.0.1119
