Never walk the woods at night with anger in your heart. When Winter’s winds are howling, - do not dare to walk beneath the trees when skies are dim and dark.
By Patrick Kavanagh6 years ago in Poets
Juliana was a quiet girl. they say – with long, dark hair and soft brown eyes. Her teachers said, they often caught her gazing out the classroom window, - staring at the sky.
And so, it comes again, that time of loneliness and hunger - when the streets are bitter-cold. The time it is so clear that no one really wants you when you’re tired and getting old.
The hammer strikes the fiery steel, The sparks, like fire-flies, dance and wheel, The anvil rings out like a bell, A slow, relentless, steady beat,
