She has called the white geese
And counted the sheep,
She has milked the white cows,
Put the pigeons to sleep.
She has locked up the barn
And fastened the gate,
And folded the shutters
Because it is late.
And now she goes forth
Ina cool gown of white
To gather the plums
In the soft evening light.
And soon she will come
To the warmth of the room,
To kindle the lamps
Like a ghost in the gloom.
So lovely (!), with a hint of lonely.
ReplyDelete(Please see Bandit, also.)
Lovely verse, and oddly comforting. Madeleine Begun Kane
ReplyDeleteI knew this lady (and her mother too)and she was incapable of or unwilling to respond to afection in the manner we regard as normal and human. That was her particular appeal.
ReplyDeleteWe thank you ladies for the comments, much appreciated!
Your words (above) caused a book to cross through my mind -- a book I greatly enjoyed reading. I just couldn't remember the name. Tonight, I found it. The book with the picture of the house of beautiful colors -- this I could not forget! Even the name of the author . . . an intelligent name, a comely name (if a name can be comely). The ending I cannot remember, but the quality of the person described is something I would not have wanted to miss knowing: http://www.ofspirit.com/tw-exitingnirvana.htm
ReplyDeleteMaybe you, too, would enjoy reading this.