Poem by Lesbia Harford

* * *

Emmie, Emmie Adams,
With her insolent air,
Tied a little bit of rag
In her yellow hair.
When Lena, wondering,
Asked why it was there,
Emmie said she didn't know
And she didn't care.
I think Emmie Adams,
Though you are so fair,
That must be the devil's horn
In your yellow hair.

1. Closing Time: Public Library
2. He had served eighty masters. They'd have said
3. Do you remember still the little song
4. Florence kneels down to say her prayers
5. All through the day at my machine

Print

1195 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version