Sitting By a Tree
As the summer breeze flows across the medow,
The wild flowers sway,
In all shades of yellow.
A herd of lazy cows grazes,
While the earth is warmed,
And the sun blazes.
Sitting by a tree,
watching all of this,
I wish he was here with me.
Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.
Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) U.S. poet.
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
|---|---|---|
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
| The Mountain Cries | 1 | 09/07/2009 |
| soft as a cloud | 1 | 06/16/2009 |
| With You | 1 | 06/12/2009 |
| Fear | 1 | 06/05/2009 |
| The River Sings | 0 | 06/05/2009 |
| Sitting By a Tree | 0 | 06/05/2009 |
| Band of Thunder | 1 | 06/04/2009 |
| cute as a kitten, mean as a lion. | 0 | 06/04/2009 |
| Time | 1 | 06/04/2009 |
| the cloud hanging over me | 1 | 05/21/2009 |
| Over it | 1 | 05/08/2009 |
| He Left Me Alone | 3 | 04/23/2009 |
| an ode to my friend lacey: | 2 | 04/23/2009 |
| My own Paradise (i left) | 3 | 04/16/2009 |
| my journey | 1 | 04/16/2009 |
| Lonelyness | 1 | 04/16/2009 |
| Thunder | 0 | 04/16/2009 |
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