Poem by Lesbia Harford

* * *

I dreamt last night
That spring had come.
Across green fields I saw a blur
Of crimson-blossomed plum.
I've never known
So fair a thing.
And yet I wish it were a dream
Of some forgotten spring.
Today the sun
Our workroom blest
And there was hard young wattle pinned
On our forewoman's breast.

1. Summer Lightning
2. Do you remember still the little song
3. Machinist Talking
4. Child Sun
5. Florence kneels down to say her prayers

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