The Poetry Corner

Melmillo

By Walter De La Mare

Three and thirty birds there stood In an elder in a wood; Called Melmillo - flew off three, Leaving thirty in a tree; Called Melmillo - nine now gone, And the boughs held twenty-one; Called Melmillo - eighteen Left but three to nod and preen; Called Melmillo - three - two - one - Now of birds were feathers none. Then stole slim Melmillo in To that wood all dusk and green, And with lean long palms outspread Softly a strange dance did tread; Not a note of music she Had for echoing company; All the birds were flown to rest In the hollow of her breast; In the wood thorn, elder, willow - Danced alone - lone danced Melmillo.