Array ( [sid] => 179259 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => The Fields Always Smell When It Rains [time] => 2014-09-09 16:51:44 [hometext] => [bodytext] => Around here, we complain about buses being late,
and moan when food is not made fast enough.
Around here, the sun don't shine as much as we'd like,
yet, the fields always smell when it rains.

Around here, we rush just to buy the morning paper,
and moan about queue's formed by people with credit cards.
Around here, the moon isn't as full as we'd like,
yet, the fields always smell when it rains.

Well, the fields always smell when it rains,
A man at the bus stop, he calls for a cab,
and a lady in the queue, puts her shopping back.
Yet, the fields always smell when it rains. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 241 [topic] => 64 [informant] => steven_fenton123 [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => ambiguous ) Your Poetry Dot Com - The Fields Always Smell When It Rains


The Fields Always Smell When It Rains
Date: Tuesday, 9th September 2014 @ 04:51:44 PM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: steven_fenton123
Around here, we complain about buses being late,
and moan when food is not made fast enough.
Around here, the sun don't shine as much as we'd like,
yet, the fields always smell when it rains.

Around here, we rush just to buy the morning paper,
and moan about queue's formed by people with credit cards.
Around here, the moon isn't as full as we'd like,
yet, the fields always smell when it rains.

Well, the fields always smell when it rains,
A man at the bus stop, he calls for a cab,
and a lady in the queue, puts her shopping back.
Yet, the fields always smell when it rains.

This poem is Copyright © steven_fenton123


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