Loveliest of trees, the cherry now
Is hung with bloom along the bough,
And stands about the woodland ride
Wearing white for Eastertide.
Now, of my threescore years and ten,
Twenty will not come again,
And take from seventy springs a score,
It only leaves me fifty more.
And since to look at things in bloom
Fifty springs are little room,
About the woodlands I will go
To see the cherry hung with snow.
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Comments
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Yeah I saw this one also under different name there and maybe the other name "silent moaning" would've been better for this poem as the title,well who knows...cherries are sweet,especially when you pop them...
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Lovely piece... and wonderful rhyme, as well. Though it was under a different name on the promotion board... that's weird.
Anyway, still liked it!
EnterAndSee
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