In a field depleted and left a fallow
Where only single crops have e’er grown
‘Twill sundry bloom soon rich, tho’ callow
When by Nature’s hand the seeds are sown
writing is sorrow; having had written is sublime
writing is sorrow; having had written is sublime
In a field depleted and left a fallow
Where only single crops have e’er grown
‘Twill sundry bloom soon rich, tho’ callow
When by Nature’s hand the seeds are sown
That’s lovely.
I’m happy you think so.
Lovely picture.
Thank you. My hood.
Wonderful poem. Thank you for posting it.