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Poem of the Week: Overheard on a Salt Marsh

temptation, obsessed
Overheard on a Salt Marsh
by Harold Monro

Nymph, nymph, what are your beads?

Green glass, goblin. Why do you stare at them?

Give them me.

No.

Give them me. Give them me.

No.

Then I will howl all night in the reeds. Lie in the mud and howl for them.

Goblin, why do you love them so?

They are better than stars or water,
Better than voices of winds that sing,
Better than any man's fair daughter,
Your green glass beads on a silver ring.

Hush, I stole them out of the moon.

Give me your beads. I desire them.

No.

I will howl in a deep lagoon for your green glass beads, I love them so. Give them me. Give them me.

No.

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Comments

curiouswombat
Oct. 31st, 2007 08:57 pm (UTC)
Oh thank you - I remember reading that and loving it a very long time ago - and now that you have reminded me of it I love it all over again!

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