But I, being poor, have only my dreams; I have spread my dreams under your feet; Tread softly because you tread on my dreams - Yeats
A Pheasant (24 Oct. 14)
How pleasant
A pheasant
Wandering alone
Amongst the vegetation
In the garden
In Autumn.
And not a plucker in sight.
I saw his mate though.
And not a plucker in sight.
ReplyDeleteI saw his mate though.
ReplyDelete