Harry Kemp

(15 December 1883 – 8 August 1960 / Youngstown, Ohio)

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A Wheat-Field Fantasy

As I sat on a Kansas hilltop,
      While, far away from my,
Rippled the lights and shadows
      Dancing across acres of wheat,
 
The sound of the grain as it murmured
      Wrought a wonder with me__.
It turned from the voice of the Prairie
      Into the roar of the sea.

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