Uncommon

Uncommon folks come from uncommon lands Where they have neither been nor seen a shadow And thus they do not share our woes They see different sights and hear different sounds Their fruits and vegetables are very large and very round Their trees richly green with bark of darkest brown. My house-maid was an uncommon girl Fed on fish, spinach and kale She ate the stalks and leaves, leaving nothing to waste Her food once I happened to taste Truly it was simple and great As for other things, she had a life desolate She had none other than a mate The first had come in haste Later she picked another for her take. We are gals, pals, but not friends She drew me a picture of a water-lily For I could read and write like a proper LADY She was uncommon, enchanting and quite a symbol She was the life in the still-life on my mantel.