Our Field Andthe Present Times Poem by George Samuel
Our Field Andthe Present Times
We have been in this field
Where the sun has scorged every yield
The rain taken away by the breeze
While our season wait with withered trees
For night fall and snow
Before our oak may grow
Or our seed leave the surface side
Betimes we sweat wet with tides
Far away from the river side
We would grow whatever betide
Tuesday, May 3, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: struggle
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7/30/2025 3:37:22 PM # 1.0.0
