Words as plain as hen-birds' wings Do not lie, Do not over-broider things - Are too shy. Thoughts that shuffle round like pence Through each reign, Wear down to their simplest sense Yet remain. Weeds are not supposed to grow But by degrees Some achieve a flower, although No one sees.
Added: 24 Jun 2002 | Last Read: 7 Sep 2026 11:00 AM | Viewed: 8494 times
A PoetryNotes™ eBook is available for this poem for delivery within 24 hours, and usually available within minutes during normal business hours.
ON SALE - only $29.95 19.95!
For more information...