Edward Thomas: ‘The Child on the Cliffs’

I’ve been on the West Coast for a much needed, much enjoyed vacation. Here’s a photo I took at Bodega Head on the north coast of California. And below a scrap of poem from the Welsh poet Edward Thomas.

Mother, the root of this little yellow flower
Among the stones has the taste of quinine.
Things are strange to-day on the cliff. The sun shines so bright,
And the grasshopper works at his sewing-machine
So hard. Here’s one on my hand, mother, look;
I lie so still. There’s one on your book.

(From The Child on the Cliffs by Edward Thomas)


  1. Welcome Back, Rose! I’ve missed you….but I’m so glad you were able to take time for some well-deserved “R & R.” Continued thanks for your wonderful work, on this blog and FB and, of course the mag!


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