The Miller

The Miller

Walking up the hill
Along the river
Reminding me the mill
And the miller

Whose hairs grew white
And two great eyes light
Glistered fully bright
Seeing the whole world right
With a long lengthy beard
Dusted with wisdom well reared

By a heart revered
Trusted for good well geared
Beloved for its kindness
And a vast love boundless
Amidst a soul immense
Cloaked in an earthy fence
Whose lost memory’s now
Amongst the rust mill’s row