Not for a trice feel a wayward twinge
for distant bells that hollow ring
familiar creak of the wooden loft
loving caress to a cheek so soft
so hold your child and merrily sing
to hug him dear and arms fling
savor the morning's early dew
tis the love that but earn a few
look the eye of your beaming beau
the glint therein that you watched grew
in your frock and braid and held flower
the sun the moon and shining star
the well worn stair, forward deck
wizened eye that seeks your beck
feline grace of your cat’s stretch
topped pail, in which you water fetch
sing and dance and take a step
to homely kitchen and roasting prep
tumblers stacked and the slanty mop
from window watch that ye often hop
saadat tahir
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/distant-bells-1905-2k13/
