a poem by Edwin Keith Jepson, UK - poetry writer, author, poet

On a frosty night
With begging bowl
A young girl pleads
With heart and soul
To passers by
Who wondered why
She was out so late
And in such a state
With fingers blue
And aching loins
She clutched her bowl
Half full of coins
And then she crossed
The frosty street
In her shabby dress
Walking towards the cemetary
Free from all the stress
Through holy pastures
Pure and blessed
To her haven of peace
She returned to rest

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