Poetry Archives

I
        Grandfather’s Love

They said he sent his love to me,
 They wouldn’t put it in my hand,
And when I asked them where it was
 They said I couldn’t understand.

I thought they must have hidden it,
 I hunted for it all the day,
And when I told them so at night
 They smiled and turned their heads away.

They say that love is something kind,
 That I can never see or touch.
I wish he’d sent me something else,
 I like his cough-drops twice as much.

  II
        The Kind Moon

I think the moon is very kind
 To take such trouble just for me.
He came along with me from home
 To keep me company.

He went as fast as I could run;
 I wonder how he crossed the sky?
I’m sure he hasn’t legs and feet
 Or any wings to fly.

Yet here he is above their roof;
 Perhaps he thinks it isn’t right
For me to go so far alone,
 Tho’ mother said I might.