Old HouseA Poem by Cristina MoldoveanuA trimeric poem for a contest
Wandering most everywhere
I passed once by that small creek Finding our old house there Where I used to hide and seek.
I passed once by that small creek Where wild grasses grew so tall, And I looked over the wall.
Finding our old house there, With gossamer nets as drapes, With my grandpa's sour grapes.
Where I used to hide and seek All the trees were almost dried, I looked back again and cried... © 2012 Cristina MoldoveanuAuthor's Note
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6 Reviews Added on July 18, 2012 Last Updated on July 28, 2012 AuthorCristina MoldoveanuBucharest, RomaniaAboutPoor and alone, getting old in Bucharest, Romania more..Writing
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