Poem -
THE FIELD
RUNNING THROUGH A OPEN FIELD
THE WIND BLOWING THROUGH MY HAIR
THE SUN BEAMING ON MY FACE
THE GRASS BENEATH MY FEET
THE BIRDS SINGING IT THE TREES
THEN I STOPPED MY HEART FILLED WITH JOY
THEN I RELIZED THAT THE LORD IS MY SHEAPHERD
AND I AM HIS LOST SHEEP
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Comments
I CANT SPELL THAT GOOD HOPE EVERYONE LIKES IT
Your spelling isn't that bad & your poem is lovely.
A very humble piece it is ed. i enjoyed ! keep writing tina x