Tags hawthorn
Behind the HedgeA Poem by David Lewis PagetThe rambling house was all run down, Well, what you could even see of it, It sat in extensive, weedy grounds And a hawthorn hedge sur.. |
The StileA Poem by David Lewis PagetI always knew there was something strangeAbout that farmer’s stile,For no-one ever climbed over itAnd I’d watched it for a while.The field.. |