The Playhouse Key Poem by Rachel Field
The Playhouse Key
This is the key to the playhouse
In the woods by the pebbly shore,
It's winter now, I wonder if
There's snow about the door?
I wonder if the fir trees tap
Green fingers on the pane,
If sea gulls cry and the roof is wet
And tinkle-y with rain?
I wonder if the flower-sprigged cups
And plates sit on their shelf,
And if my little painted chair
Is rocking by itself?
winter here comes to make sad overall the nature and poetic natural mind.....///// praiseworthy poem
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/22/2024 8:18:12 PM # 1.0.0.1119
I like the poem.it asks a lot of questions that are answerable.