MEMORIES by Katherine Cary Place 1878-1934
Up in an attic high, so high, Far above the city roar,A poet sat when the day was done, And pondered a question o’er and o’er. His hair was long and most unkept, Bushy and thick, was the poet’s hair,His pen lay idle beside his pad, His clothes were old and worn threadbare. “I have… Read More MEMORIES by Katherine Cary Place 1878-1934