These are the little shoes that died.
We could not keep her still,
But all day long her busy feet
Danced to her eager will.
Leaving the body's loving warmth,
The spirit ran outside;
Then from the shoes they slipped her feet,
And the little shoes died.
Leave a guest comment (subject to review)
Comments
-
wa ha! Dame Mary's bio made me laugh! I need a housekeeper...
-
How sad, this is a beautiful poem. I have a two yr. and immediatley thought of him as I read this poem.
Adding your comment:
