Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
I look for you in every woman I meet Your heart's design in the words they speak But no retreat, no retreat! Let the cloths of fate weave over me And when the fires of night are fading dim Let softness fall on weary limbs And brightness gather among the whins July 2024
0
Mar 16
Mar 16, 2026 at 5:30 AM UTC
The Whins
I look for you in every woman I meet Your heart's design in the words they speak But no retreat, no retreat! Let the cloths of fate weave over me And when the fires of night are fading dim Let softness fall on weary limbs And brightness gather among the whins July 2024
‘Whins,’ also known as furze or gorse, is a bush with yellow flowers that can grow in poor soil. In Irish folklore, it has magical and healing properties.
Enbarr
Written by
Mar 16
Mar 16, 2026 at 5:30 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem