Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
1097 Dew—is the Freshet in the Grass— ’Tis many a tiny Mill Turns unperceived beneath our feet And Artisan lies still— We spy the Forests and the Hills The Tents to Nature’s Show Mistake the Outside for the in And mention what we saw. Could Commentators on the Sign Of Nature’s Caravan Obtain “Admission” as a Child Some Wednesday Afternoon.
0
3k
Dew—is the Freshet in the Grass—
1097 Dew—is the Freshet in the Grass— ’Tis many a tiny Mill Turns unperceived beneath our feet And Artisan lies still— We spy the Forests and the Hills The Tents to Nature’s Show Mistake the Outside for the in And mention what we saw. Could Commentators on the Sign Of Nature’s Caravan Obtain “Admission” as a Child Some Wednesday Afternoon.
Emily Dickinson
1830 - 1886/Female/American