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 - click here!Other Poems of Interest...DE RERUM NATURA: BOOK 3. AGAINST THE FEAR OF DEATH by TITUS LUCRETIUS CARUS THE WAITER AND THE ALLIGATOR by G. W. A. INVITATION TO A PAINTER: 2 by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM LOVE AND LANGUAGE by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON ETERNITY by GRACE GRISWOLD BISBY THE BEAUTIFUL BEESHAREEN BOY by MATHILDE BLIND |
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