Castel del Monte by Edward Lear
I was just a girl still learning.
Churched, but unschooled to the yearnings
waiting just beyond the stone walls.
I turned to prayer for curing
in those days of book fed burning,
but it could not still the stirring
and shivering each time I saw
you out in the wheat field working,
hands to the earth for your earnings.
In those days of book fed burning,
rosaries rubbed my fingers raw.
And, the sweetness of that hurting
was the ache of a child turning
to woman with no returning
in those days of book fed burning.
For the Birthday in May prompt at Real Toads