The Marsh Poem by james watkin
The Marsh
I feel this is the hub.
The heart of what is
Love-based and love-affirmed
Of Earth, the humble.
Low lying, lower class
Of plant life enring.
A spot, simple, cosy.
As each homely wit;
Plain duck, goose: 'I'll not flit
While tykes, you stumble'.
Sunday, June 18, 2023
Topic(s) of this poem: earth
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4/26/2024 10:35:36 AM # 1.0.0.1119
