6 maart 2011

~Sunday Poem

“Rosemary has of dolls a dozen,
Yet she disdains them all;
While Marie Rose, her pauper cousin
Has just an old rag doll.
But you should see her mother it,
And with her kisses smother it.
A twist of twill, a hank of hair,
Fit for the rubbish bin;
How Rosemary with scorn would stare
At its pathetic grin!
Yet Marie Rose can lover it,
And with her kisses cover it.
.

.
Rosemary is a pampered pet;
She sniffs a dainty nose
Of scorn at ragged dolls, and yet
My love’s with Marie Rose,
In garret corner shy and sweet,
With rag doll Marguerite.

Though kin they are, a gulf will grow
Between them with the years;
For one a life of love will know,
The other toil and tears:
Perhaps that shabby rag doll knows
The rue of Marie Rose.

.
by Robert William Service
(1874 – 1958)

source

2 opmerkingen:

Hermes zei

Just lovely.
Have a great day.

Aputsiaq zei

Oh dear, oh dear...it all goes back to childhood, doesn't it? :O)