Is it any wonder, Hating dust, I cling to my cheesecloth And family crust? Is it any wonder That I burn With fear of dark-dust When I return? Tuck some red roses In my hand, And pray a little prayer Where you stand, When I am sleeping, For I may know You are late for dinner And want to go. But I will not worry: Green is the sod And I may not wait long To visit with God. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ONLY A WOMAN by DINAH MARIA MULOCK CRAIK GARDEN DAYS: 6. AUTUMN FIRES by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON PREPARATORY MEDITATIONS, 1ST SERIES: 8 by EDWARD TAYLOR THE ANGLER'S WISH by IZAAK WALTON THE SNARE OF THE FOWLER by WILLIAM ROSE BENET THE SHEPHERD'S PIPE: FOURTH ECLOGUE by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) |