There is a brook I must hear
Before I go to sleep.
There is a birch tree I must visit
Every night of clearness.
I have to do some dreaming,
I have to listen a great deal,
Before light comes back
By a silver arrow of cloud,
And I rub my eyes and say
It must be morning on this hill!
Morning
Hilda Conkling
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Poem topics: cloud, light, night, silver, sleep, tree, great, hear, listen, morning, visit, arrow, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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