You, whom the grave cannot bind,
Shall a song hold you?
Still you escape from the mesh
Spun to enfold you.
Your woven texture of flesh
Short time confined you.
Sib to the sun and the wind,
Shall a song bind you?

(C) Lesbia Harford
04/03/2017


Best Poems of Lesbia Harford

• Grotesque
• In The Public Library
• A Meaning Learnt
• A Strike Rhyme
• I Was Sad
• Why Does She Put Me To Many Indignities
• Inventory
• A Deity
• I Hate Work So
• Sometimes I Wish That I Were Helen-fair
• If I Had Six White Horses
• A Blouse Machinist
• Martha
• Street Music
• Emmie, Emmie Adams
• Machinist Talking
• He Has A Fairy Wife
• I Have To Make A Soul For One
• Body And Soul