<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=402954" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Real Property</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Tell me about that harvest field.<br>Oh! Fifty acres of living bread.<br>The colour has painted itself in my heart;<br>The form is patterned in my head.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">So now I take it everywhere,<br>See it whenever I look round;<br>Hear it growing through every sound,<br>Know exactly the sound it makes —<br>Remembering, as one must all day,<br>Under the pavement the live earth aches.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Trees are at the farther end,<br>Limes all full of the mumbling bee:<br>So there must be a harvest field<br>Whenever one thinks of a linden tree.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A hedge is about it, very tall,<br>Hazy and cool, and breathing sweet.<br>Round paradise is such a wall,<br>And all the day, in such a way,<br>In paradise the wild birds call.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">You only need to close your eyes<br>And go within your secret mind,<br>And you'll be into paradise:<br>I've learnt quite easily to find<br>Some linden trees and drowsy bees,<br>A tall sweet hedge with the corn behind.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I will not have that harvest mown:<br>I'll keep the corn and leave the bread.<br>I've bought that field; it's now my own:<br>I've fifty acres in my head.<br>I take it as a dream to bed.<br>I carry it about all day....</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Sometimes when I have found a friend<br>I give a blade of corn away.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Harold+Monro">Harold Monro</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=402954" data-title="Real Property de Harold Monro" data-description="Tell me about that harvest field. Oh! Fifty acres of living bread. The colour has painted itself in my heart; The form is patterned in my head. So now I take it everywhere, See it whenever I look round; Hear it growing through every sound, Know e..."></div> </div> </div>

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