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...THEN LAUGH by BERTHA ADAMS BACKUS EPITHALAMION MADE AT LINCOLNES INNE by JOHN DONNE BETTY TO HERSELF by EDWARD W. BANNARD THE RING AND THE BOOK: BOOK 5. COUNT GUIDO FRANCESCHINI by ROBERT BROWNING |
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