Poems about working
Other Force May Be
and we behold no more,
and so i deck, a little,
the wind does working like a hand,
they're here, though; not a creature failed
but what that place could be
other force may be presumed to move
But If Eager For The Shame
that, weary of this beggar's face
the date, and manner, of the shame
not period that died,
he seek conviction, that be this
three times he would not go
most i love the cause that slew me,
but if the lady come
if eager for the dead
the wind does working like a hand,
lest back the awful door should spring,
until they lock it in the grave,
oh, dear, i guess if he were a boy
he'd be too tall, the tallest one
Wait To The Water Clear, I May,
his working days are done; i'm sure of it,"
but nothing ever happens, no harm is done,
but before one is in it, their minds are turned
a flower unplucked is but left to the falling,
at one stroke of a match, brad had to turn
and a last sounding word to say,
and wait to watch the water clear, i may,
and would have turned to toss the grass to dry;