my love's a match

Medium

Photography

Artist Notes

My Loves A Match, Wildflowers smaller than leafs of clover. Photography by Bob Orsillo. A poem by Alfred P. Graves.(1846–1931) Irish writer. Irish poet and scholar. My Love's a match in beauty For every flower that blows, Her little ear's a lilly, Her velvet cheek a rose; Her locks are gilly gowans Hang golden to her knee. If I were King of Ireland, My Queen she'd surely be. Her eyes are fond forget-me-nots, And no such snow is seen Upon the heaving hawthorn bush As crests her bodice green. The thrushes when she's talking Sit listening on the tree. If I were King of Ireland, My Queen she'd surely be.