THE-THORN-THRUSH
She picked the berries
of the bramble bush
when sang out loud
a song-thrush
as if to say
"Stop right there.
Don't pick so fast
and of thorns beware."
Looking at her hands
with their purple stain
she said "They bleed
but they bleed in vain.
I have a bagful
and that will do,
though my hands
are a reddish-blue."
You've been pricked
by a bramble-thorn
and your royal blood
is being pourn
I joked - like a jester
with his queen -
as the sun's last rays
began to stream.
Yes I joked - like a jester
with his queen -
as the sun's last rays
began to stream,
then we made our way
back to the town
that sat on the hill
like a heavy crown.
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