The Broken Field Poem by Sara Teasdale

The Broken Field

Rating: 2.9


My soul is a dark ploughed field
In the cold rain;
My soul is a broken field
Ploughed by pain.

Where grass and bending flowers
Were growing,
The field lies broken now
For another sowing.

Great Sower when you tread
My field again,
Scatter the furrows there
With better grain.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Valentin Savin 11 January 2021

What a nice song. I love it very much.

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Alivia 08 December 2017

I love your pome

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* Sunprincess * 11 November 2015

.........wonderful theme, and excellent metaphors ★

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Sara Teasdale

Sara Teasdale

Missouri / United States
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