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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
What are your plans for the weekend?
This weekend, I am meeting up with some friends who I haven't seen for a long time. I am very much looking forward to being back in touch with them, and seeing what has been going on with all of their lives.
What about you? Do you have anything fun planned for your weekend? Are you looking forward to it?