by Thomas Davis

I’ve never met a woman
Who looked so tired and worn
As that old earthy lady
Of the early morn.

She wears gray skirts and blouses
Soaked wet by morning dew
And goes around a dyeing
The skies a laundry blue.

I’ve heard that her bright husband
Is such a sleepyhead
She has to light his fire
To get him out of bed.

Note: Since posting the last of the sonnet sequence, I have been wondering what to post next. Writing the dragon epic is taking up the little writing time I have, but I am only able to write one section a week. The problem is that Ethel and I each post two poems a week. Betty Hayes Albright, who posts wonderful children’s poetry, recently asked if I would post children’s poetry I wrote for my two daughters, Sonja Bingen and Mary Wood, when they were…

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