2 hours ago
Just been thrown off another forum (for 'professional' poets) within 30 seconds of posting this ballad, so I'll try here instead;
Song of the Lunatic Pilgrim
All round my hat I wear the green willow
and on my feet the sandal shoon,
for lost am I, who through leafless boughs
looked on old Mother Moon.
I followed the track of the swan on the lake
and, in the wind that blew
among the whispering rushes there
this rose I picked for you.
This rose has thorns both sharp and fine
to prick your finger deep and sore,
but though your blood be hot as fire
you'll never see me more.
For round my hat I wear the green willow
and on my feet the sandal shoon,
and lost am I, who through leafless boughs
looked on old Mother Moon.
Song of the Lunatic Pilgrim
All round my hat I wear the green willow
and on my feet the sandal shoon,
for lost am I, who through leafless boughs
looked on old Mother Moon.
I followed the track of the swan on the lake
and, in the wind that blew
among the whispering rushes there
this rose I picked for you.
This rose has thorns both sharp and fine
to prick your finger deep and sore,
but though your blood be hot as fire
you'll never see me more.
For round my hat I wear the green willow
and on my feet the sandal shoon,
and lost am I, who through leafless boughs
looked on old Mother Moon.