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.

Poem

Aren’t you cold and won’t you freeze,
With branches bare, you winter trees?
You’ve thrown away your summer shift,
Your autumn gold has come adrift.