Rachel Lyman Field (1894-1942 / the United States)
I'd like to be walking the Cranberry Road,
Where the sea shines blue through the bristling firs,
and the rocky pastures are overgrown
With bayberry bushes and junipers;
Where orchards of bent old apple trees
Go trooping down to the pebbly shore,
And the clapboard houses are seaward turned,
With larkspur clumps at every door;
Where there's plenty of time to say good-day
When friendly eyes from a window peer--
Oh, I'd like to be back on the Cranberry Road;
I wish I were there instead of here!
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