Alone

White daisies are down in the meadows,
And queer little beetles and things,
And sometimes nice rabbits and field mice;
And blackbirds with red on their wings.

I want to explore all alone,
With nobody spying around,
All alone! all alone, all alone!
It has such a wonderful sound.

Just I on the dusty town road,
With my bank money safe in my purse,
Do you think I shall ever grow up?
Or shall I just always have nurse?
Translation: 
Language: 
Rate this poem: 

Reviews

No reviews yet.