Make for me a place within your heart On which I can depend. For only you Touch the ancient wellsprings of my tears, Home through all the wanderings of my years, Eden that no other can renew, Root I cannot rend through rage or art.
A mother serves her sugar with A bit of peppermint To clarify the passages That carry what she meant When she first set to bear a soul Quite separate from her own, Whom she would cherish, yet must teach To live and die alone.
