Poem By William White

Who sat beneath this tree
As I now sit below
Dwelling on a memory.
Of springtime long ago.
Could they too once have heard
The cuckoo far away,
Listened to the Blackbird
On a springtime day.
What tales this tree could tell
Of happiness or grief,
With just the blackbirds song
And whispering of leaf.

Comments about Soliloguy

Nice stuff... and I really liked the title!

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Other poems of WILLIAM WHITE

To An Old Book

Enriched by gleaming gold design
And colour fresh yet old,
He treasures ours
The beauty

True Love

No earthly wind this bloom can bend
No earthly storm can rend,
Its heart is open to the sky
And touched by just a sigh.