Salt And Harsh

Whoever Walks Along There
Stops Short And Sees,
By The Moist Tree-Roots
In A Clearing Of The Trees,
Yellow Great Battalions
Blowing In The Breeze.

And All The Rocking Beech-Trees
Are Bright With Buds Again,
And The Green And Open Spaces
Are Greener After Rain.

Yes, I Shall Stand
Where As A Boy I Stood
Above The Levels
In The Beach Road
I Ll Smell Again The Sea Breeze,
Salt And Harsh And Good.

Wilfred John

More Shayari in English Poetry
14 Jul 2008 No Comment

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