Across The Field - Poem by ANDREW BLAKEMORE
Across the field I once did stare
Towards the woodland that was there
I felt the cold of autumn air
And saw leaves upon the ground.
The early morning was so still
As sunlight rose above the hill
And began to warm the morning chill
But it couldn't warm my heart.
The sky was of the deepest blue
The frost was melting into dew
And I remember clearly too
Just how I felt that day.
But now that day has long since gone
With my chance to be someone
I wish for once that luck had shone
On me and brought me love.
Comments about Across The Field by ANDREW BLAKEMORE
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
- Still I RiseMaya Angelou
- The Road Not TakenRobert Frost
- If You Forget MePablo Neruda
- DreamsLangston Hughes
- Annabel LeeEdgar Allan Poe
- IfRudyard Kipling
- Stopping By Woods On A Snowy EveningRobert Frost
- Do Not Stand At My Grave And WeepMary Elizabeth Frye
- I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love YouPablo Neruda
- TelevisionRoald Dahl