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(14 March 1879 - 16 March 1932 / Brussels)

Overheard on a Salmarsh

Nymph, nymph, what are your beads?
Green glass, goblin. Why do you stare at them?
Give them me.
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Comments about this poem (Overheard on a Salmarsh by Harold Monro )

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  • Laurie Mctaggart (5/18/2012 3:14:00 AM)

    The most perfect little conversation I've ever heard. A favourite of mine since first reading it in the anthology 'This Way Delight'.

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