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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=366029" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Wattle & Daub</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">She lived right next to the forest<br>In a cottage of wattle and daub, <br>A roof of bark and a floor of dirt<br>With a whisk of milk, absorbed, <br>Her man had died of a heart attack<br>For over a year, he'd gone, <br>Had left her to fend for herself out there<br>In the shade of a ghostly gum.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He lay right under a stringy bark, <br>She'd dug the grave herself, <br>Had made a cross with her loving hands<br>Deep planted at his head, <br>On lonely nights she would sit out there<br>And whisper him under the stars, <br>'Oh Jim, where now are your strong, brown hands, <br>Where now are your loving arms? '</div><div style="margin:10px 0">She didn't cry, for she couldn't cry<br>For her heart had turned to stone, <br>Her love was buried and six feet down<br>With crumbling flesh and bone, <br>Her eyes were hard as the hardest flint, <br>Her lips a fine white line, <br>And when the stars came out at night<br>She would look for the slightest sign.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">She looked for a heaven beyond the stars, <br>She looked for the eyes of God, <br>She knew that he watched her as she slept, <br>He watched where her steps had trod, <br>She prayed for her days to end in peace<br>And soon, for she was alone, <br>She carved a notch in the mantelpiece<br>Each day, since her love had flown.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">She bucketed water from the creek<br>That trickled on past her door, <br>It once was a raging river bed<br>But that had been back, before...<br>Before a neighboring farmer dammed, <br>And quelled the flowing stream, <br>Had turned her husband's protests down<br>With a sneer, and words obscene.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Her Jim had worked then twice as hard<br>To irrigate his feed, <br>The cattle had died in the summer months<br>On the parched ground of their need, <br>He worked from the time the sun came up<br>To the time that the stars came out, <br>And in the end, collapsed and died<br>From the toil of a man-made drought.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The farmer up by the dam had said<br>That he'd take her land for free, <br>She'd never be able to stay out there<br>Alone, she would turn and flee, <br>Then he would double his pasture<br>And would open the dam to flood, <br>And let his cattle to roam abroad<br>By the cottage of wattle and daub.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now during the long drawn evenings<br>And deep in the forest's shade, <br>She could hear strange noises, threatening, <br>As they howled across the glade, <br>She loaded the shotgun Jim had left, <br>And kept it inside the door, <br>She'd not be driven from off the land<br>Where her husband lay, forlorn.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">One night a shadowy figure came<br>Strode out of the darkening wood, <br>Crossed the creek in the evening mist<br>In a cape with a long black hood, <br>It howled and jittered like one possessed<br>She opened the cottage door, <br>Then blanched as she saw it light a torch<br>And the flames begin to roar.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">She went to reach for the shotgun then<br>But a hand caught fast her wrist, <br>Lifted the gun and pointed it, <br>She stood with her hand on her breast, <br>Her heart was pounding, her legs were weak<br>As she watched the phantom stand, <br>He shrieked in fear as he saw the gun<br>In a strong, brown pair of hands.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The blast took one of his legs clean off, <br>The phantom fell with a scream, <br>The shotgun dropped to the earthen porch<br>She thought it a crazy dream, <br>She turned to look for the strong brown hands<br>That she knew as well as her own, <br>But the porch was clear, and she felt no fear<br>For her husband had come home.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The dam was breached in a minute or so, <br>The torrent then flooded down, <br>Washed the remains of the farmer to<br>The lowlands, where he drowned, <br>She went out back and buried the gun<br>With a smile in her eyes, like stars<br>Looked up to the skies, and saw God's eyes<br>And round her, two loving arms! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">4 June 2009</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=David+Lewis+Paget">David Lewis Paget</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=366029" data-title="Wattle & Daub de David Lewis Paget" data-description="She lived right next to the forest
In a cottage of wattle and daub, 
A roof of bark and a floor of dirt
With a whisk of milk, absorbed, 
Her man had died of a heart attack
For over a year, he'd gone, 
Had left her to fend for herself out there
In ..."></div>
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