This is an old Irish poem that I have loved for many years. It had slipped away from my mind, and my brother Troy wrote and asked for a copy. It made me happy to read it again.
As a farmer's daughter, I wished to be like the planter's daughter. Hope you enjoy it and feel like you are THERE, as I do, when I read it.
The Planters Daughter
by Austin Clarke
When night stirred at sea,
And the fire brought a crowd in
They say that her beauty
Was music in mouth
And few in the candlelight
Thought her too proud,
For the house of the planter
Is known by the trees.
Men that had seen her
Drank deep and were silent,
The women were speaking
Wherever she went --
As a bell that is rung
Or a wonder told shyly
And O she was the Sunday
In every week
1 comment:
Love this!! And completely agree I am THERE too sister! :)
xo
susan
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