Lizette Woodworth Reese
Oh, the littles that remain!
Scent of mint out in the lane;
Flare of window; sound of bees; —
These, but these.
Three times sitting down to bread;
One time climbing up to bed;
Table-setting o’er and o’er;
Drying herbs for winter’s store;
This thing; that thing;—nothing more.
But just now out in the lane,
Oh, the scent of mint was plain!
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (After by Lizette Woodworth Reese )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
- Dare - Devil Inside, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- I'll be missing you, Emma Wilson
- A U G U S T, hasmukh amathalal
- Conquest, Liilia Talts Morrison
- My Circus Tent, Stephen Loomes
- Mute Talking Drum, Chibueze Oscar Osuji
- silkworm, Marshall Gass
- you on a continent climbed....., Marshall Gass
- I reached deep into a pocket........., Marshall Gass
- Leaves Of The Past, RoseAnn V. Shawiak