Poetry

James Mullaney


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19 march 2012

PASTORAL

A trellised rose garden rose gold and white
On the crest of a lavender landscape;
A rill dimpled bright like a cut glass in light
When a bashful moon punctured the cloudscape.
A maid gathered bluebells and baby's breath
On the skirt of an evergreeen woodland;
And when the time came to gather up Death
She was swept to Arcadian Goodland.
She met her big sister, Emily Ann,
And the two-month-old stricken with fever.
Then mother informed her her fancy-dan
Was with Dis.  She refused to believe her.
A rooster may strut a whirlwind hour.
The Devil, though, lurks long in the bower.






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