464-6 Archives - Timeless Poem

Tag Archive for: 464-6

Cross Lots.

Cross Lots. 464.6 Straight it ran through buttercups, Blue eyed grass and timothy, Clover, where the wild bee sups. And the tall weed waving free: Just a little trodden lane. Narrow as a mower's swath. Oh, to set my feet again In that…

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