The Hidden Years
A POEM
A workman asked at a village door,
“Have you a bed, a chair,
A fallen shelf, a broken drawer,
A table to repair?”
The mistress looked from the dusty room
But went her dusty way:
She could not rest from brush and broom
To hear the lad today.
The busy daughter looked and sighed
And fretted as she spun,
“Another peddler?” “Yes,” replied
The mother, “Joseph’s son.”
You May Also Enjoy
Who Taught You?
Butterfly, who taught you
Your exotic dance?
Who made your wings melodious?
What makes…
Song of God’s Body
Who is this alive from heaven, hidden
Beneath the Church’s bread,
Who comes in sacramental…