I Cannot Make Her Come Any Faster - Poem by James McLain
I cannot make her come any faster,
Why does the cotton lay wet in the fields?
The sea, the ocean the waves, leave
There mark on her face.
Someone alone inside of my head, speaking
For me I have read.
Today she's o.k. in the past, she was not,
Where does the time we have used, where does
Tomorrow again she I knew,
When it rains, her cotton lies wet in the field.
Comments about I Cannot Make Her Come Any Faster by James McLain
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You