To His Daughter
A little girl sits on the wall
Colouring something on the other side.
The wind shines her hair as she holds up
A flapping paper to my window.
What is on the paper I don't know.
The hornbeam bends over near her head.
Its two-coloured leaves are like her hair.
poem by Henry Money
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
