Missing
Missing the one
Missing the one that is on the breeze
She floats she feels
She is gone
We miss her
She is the higher
She is the higher for she made it the higher
The higher than we
She is my
Higher my archy
A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.
Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
|---|---|---|
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
| Missing | 0 | 07/05/2009 |
| serenity! | 0 | 06/19/2009 |
| Confusion! | 0 | 06/19/2009 |
| I miss you! | 0 | 06/17/2009 |
| To My Mommy | 0 | 06/17/2009 |
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