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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
I though to describe a picture onec per day or two.This may be a kid's work.but I am also a kid to english a I think this will help me to catch new words and improve my writing ability.
I hope the friends in this forum will help me to correct my mistakes and go ahead.