November
There is wind where the rose was,
Cold rain where sweet grass was,
And clouds like sheep
Stream o'er the steep
Grey skies where the lark was.
Nought warm where your hand was,
Nought gold where your hair was,
But phantom, forlorn,
Beneath the thorn,
Your ghost where your face was.
Cold wind where your voice was,
Tears, tears where my heart was,
And ever with me,
Child, ever with me,
Silence where hope was.
poem by Walter de la Mare
Added by Poetry Lover
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Also see the following:
- quotes about sheep
- quotes about wind
- quotes about grey
- quotes about grass
- quotes about sky
- quotes about roses
- quotes about voice
- quotes about childhood
- quotes about rain
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