I'm not his wife. I am his paramour:
His wayside love, picked up in journeying:
Rose of the hedgerows; fragrant, till he fling
Me down beside the ditch, a drooped thing
Some country boy may stick into his hat.
A paramour has no more use than that.
A Meaning Learnt
Lesbia Harford
(1)
Poem topics: rose, wife, country, love, I love you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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Richird moon: you are good
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