"Late Summer"

Random Poetry List LXXIII

I, dusty and bedraggled as I am,
Pestered with wasps and weeds and making jam,
Blowzy and stale, my welcome long outstayed,
Proved false in every promse that I made,
At my beginning I believed, like you,
Something would come of all my green and blue.
Mortals remember, looking on the thing
I am, that I, even I, was once a spring.

C. S. Lewis (British, 1898-1963)

Originally e-mailed on Wednesday, September 16, 1998 @ 7:40 PM.

Lane Core Jr. CIW P — Sat. 09/16/06 09:59:00 PM
Categorized as Literary & Random Poetry List.