Up here, with June, the sycamore throws
Across the window a whispering screen;
I shall miss the sycamore more I suppose,
Than anything else on this earth that is out in green.
But I mean to go through the door without fear,
Not caring much what happens here
When I-m away: --
How green the screen is across the panes
Or who goes laughing along the lanes
With my old lover all the summer day.
From A Window
Charlotte Mary Mew
(1)
Poem topics: away, fear, june, summer, I miss you, earth, door, suppose, window, Valentine's Day, green, screen, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
Submit Spanish Translation
Submit German Translation
Submit French Translation
Write your comment about From A Window poem by Charlotte Mary Mew
Best Poems of Charlotte Mary Mew