Author John Clare The roads begin to stand wi spungy pudges & the maid of[t] pauses on her way To spy a stone or tuft of grass To stride on & escape a[c]ross Without wet feet. Tags Short Poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments