Tending my lot

A new beginning calls for a return to old beginnings and my dearest literary friend Christina Rossetti. There has not been enough poetry, either in my life or on the blog, of late, so here I will place one. I’ve alluded before to the idea of the desert blooming as the rose (which one day it shall once and for all – Isaiah 35:1), so I like the reference here.

St Saviour's Rose


My vineyard that is mine I have to keep,
Pruning for fruit the pleasant twigs and leaves.
Tend thou thy cornfield: one day thou shalt reap
In joy thy ripened sheaves.

Or if thine be an orchard, graft and prop
Food-bearing trees each watered in its place:
Or if a garden, let it yield for crop
Sweet herbs and herb of grace.

But if my lot be sand where nothing grows?–
Nay, who hath said it? Tune a thankful psalm:
For ‘tho they desert bloom not as the rose,
It yet can rear thy palm.

~Christina Rossetti


    • Oh sorry, I just discovered your comment, and this here new arrangement didn’t email me (though that is definitely the specified set up) – and why is the writing so small? Thank you. I’ll email you. And thanks too …

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