Behind the house is the millet plot,
And past the millet, the stile;
And then a hill where melilot
Grows with wild camomile.
There was a youth who bade me goodby
Where the hill rises to meet the sky.
I think my heart broke; but I have forgot
All but the smell of the white melilot.
Behind The House Is The Millet Plot
Muna Lee
(2)
Poem topics: goodby, heart, house, sky, wild, white, smell, youth, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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shenaya gupta: not nice poem
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