Poems

Poem

I saw a bride splendid in white garments
I saw a woman with one hundred children 
The children plump and firm within her arms,
But some fell down or strangers took and ate them

Poem

Spring is baby,
bright, fresh and new,
gurgling with the melting snow,
singing with the first cuckoo.

Give The Ball to the Poet
Poem

We don' have a Springtime like some folk
Who live in dem colder place,
but we have a time when de soft rain come,
an' tease open de seedcase