One comes to love the little saints,
As years go by.
One learns to love the little saints.
'O hear me sigh,
St. Anthony,
Find this for me,
I wish you'd try.'
There must be many garden gods,
A gardener sees.
There'd have to be an orchard god. 'Divinities,
Take honour due.
The long year through
Protect these trees.'
The Mother and the Holy Child
Are friends to me.
I pray, 'I am my mother's child.
I trust you'll see
That days are bright
And all goes right
With her and me.'
Polytheist
Lesbia Harford
(1)
Poem topics: I love you, god, trust, pray, long, hear, bright, garden, holy, year, protect, child, mother, love, I miss you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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