THE TOWN CHILD

THE TOWN  CHILD

Irene  Thompson

  I live  in the town

                     In a  street:        

 It is   crowded  with traffic

                     And  feet;

 There  are buses  and  motors

                     And  trams ;

I wish there were meadows

                      And  lambs .

  

The houses  all wait

                       IN a  row ,

There is smoke everywhere

              That I go .

I don’t  like the noises

                     I  hear –

   I wish  there were  woods 

                       Very   near .

There  is only one thing

                                    That  I love ,

Far  above .

                                       There  is plenty of room

IN the  blue

                                For  castle  of clouds

And me ,too  !