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There is wind where the rose was,
Cold rain where sweet grass was,
And clouds like sheep
Stream o'er the steep
Grey skies where the lark was.
Nought warm where your hand was,
Nought gold where your hair was,
But phantom, forlorn,
Beneath the thorn,
Your ghost where your face was.
Cold wind where your voice was,
Tears, tears where my heart was,
And ever with me,
Child, ever with me,
Silence where hope was.
November by Walter de la Mare
Introducing myself - Mheredge
I've been hanging around the Forum for the past couple of years, not learning English so much as hopefully encouraging you guys to practice your language skills.
I'm like Lynne, trying to learn another language. Not German but Nepali (nine years) and I'm still struggling. I'm usually staying in Nepal or India and tend to be on the move quite a lot of the time.