A shadows voice...
low in timber grows..
Between the sheets..
Clears one pond..
The water droplets..
vibrate up..from into..
Bullfrogs know this tune..
they add..it soars..
Throaty waves oscillate..
Pond swells..as evening..
Floats sweet night...

by James McLain

Comments (6)

this gay o n ma momma i blow a hole in ya momma
It is an intresting peom and also a sad peom
O yea, very very beautiful poem it is.
As with everyone, in nostalgia, Longfellow addresses the twilight of his years.
...so poignant and nicely penned, the poet was in a pensive mood ★
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