Classic and Contemporary Poetry
OATS WILD TURN MILD, by THRALL BUELL First Line: I think of my life as a planting Last Line: Last night I held my child. | ||||||||
I think of my life as a planting, A sowing of seeds more or less; Some have yielded fine foliage, Others mere pottage -- a mess. I have also sown many an oat crop, The variety well known as wild, But those days are gone forever -- Last night I held my child. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DOMESDAY BOOK: WIDOW FORTELKA by EDGAR LEE MASTERS BY THE STATUE OF KING CHARLES AT CHARING CROSS by LIONEL PIGOT JOHNSON AN OLD WOMAN (2) by MOTHER GOOSE THE CLERKS by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON BITTERNESS by VICTORIA MARY SACKVILLE-WEST |
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