The plantains have lost their white coronets;
their brown seed-heads wave down the field-edge;
long oat-grasses have yellowed and wind-combed over;
persistent nettles and red dock-weed* stand wizened and proud.
..............................
*a Rumex
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Keep The Home Fires Burning
ПоэзияA poetry Collection. Now Lunk has taken to his bed, swearing not to write one more word about C, and muttering 'bloody garden', it behoves (Love that word, don't you?) me (and Anima) to fill out his shoes, with soil and flower seed. So we will be 'e...
