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Trehill Well

Rating: 2.9
There stood a low and ivied roof,
As gazing rustics tell,
In times of chivalry and song
'Yclept the holy well.

Above the ivies' branchlets gray
In glistening clusters shone;
While round the base the grass-blades bright
And spiry foxglove sprung.
The brambles clung in graceful bands,
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COMMENTS
Susan Williams 16 February 2016
Methinks this poem was written in the early 1800's and sounds like it. An interesting adventure that didn't want to tell of bitter thoughts or melancholy dreams but life is an adventure and it doesn't make a habit of well-trodden roads and same-o same-o.
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