Poems by Walter De La Mare – 2

08 – The Cupboard

I know a little cupboard,
With a teeny tiny key,
And there’s a jar of Lollypops
For me, me, me.
It has a little shelf, my dear,
As dark as dark can be,
And there’s a dish of Banbury Cakes
For me, me, me.
I have a small fat grandmamma,
With a very slippery knee,
And she’s the Keeper of the Cupboard
With the key, key, key.
And when I’m very good, my dear,
As good as good can be,
There’s Banbury Cakes, and Lollypops
For me, me, me.

10 – The Window

Behind the blinds I sit and watch
The people passing – passing by;
And not a single one can see
My tiny watching eye.
They cannot see my little room,
All yellowed with the shaded sun;
They do not even know I’m here;
Nor’ll guess when I am gone.

11 – A Widow’s Weeds

A poor old Widow in her weeds
Sowed her garden with wild-flower seeds;
Not too shallow, and not too deep,
And down came April – drip – drip – drip.
Up shone May, like gold, and soon
Green as an arbour grew leafy June.

And now all summer she sits and sews
Where willow herb, comfrey, bugloss blows,
Teasle and pansy, meadowsweet,
Campion, toadflax, and rough hawksbit;
Brown bee orchis, and Peals of Bells;
Clover, burnet, and thyme she smells;

Like Oberon’s meadows her garden is
Drowsy from dawn to dusk with bees.
Weeps she never, but sometimes sighs,
And peeps at her garden with bright brown eyes;
And all she has is all she needs—
A poor Old Widow in her weeds.

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