The poetry of the earth
The poetry of the earth is never dead
When all the birds are faint with the hot sun
And hide in cooling trees a voice will run
From hedge about the new moon mead.
👁 4💬 0
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.
Log in to leave a comment.