First Love - Poem by Pete Crowther
My first true love was only seven
Her hair was fair, her eyes were blue,
She was an angel straight from heaven,
We shared a desk at infants’ school.
Beneath its lid our knees were pressed
Together tightly, warm and friendly
Like two little birds in their own nest,
She was my love, I loved her tenderly.
The golden hairs upon her arm
Even today I can recall,
That clear skin and gentle charm
Of my young sweetheart, Ann Goodall.
Comments about First Love by Pete Crowther
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
- Stopping By Woods On A Snowy EveningRobert Frost
- IfRudyard Kipling
- Do Not Stand At My Grave And WeepMary Elizabeth Frye
- I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love YouPablo Neruda
- TelevisionRoald Dahl