A WINTER’S TALE
Let me steal the midnight’s silence,
The stillness of the dawn,
The dampness of the morning grass,
As one more day is born.
Let me tread the crisp new snow
And breathe the icy blast;
Match my step to winter’s wind,
Relive those pleasures past.
For I must reach another goal
Fate’s purpose to pursue.
Life has been short and gone too soon
My devils to subdue.
And when my grave has opened up
My body to receive
Already mildew on my heart
And few there’ll be to grieve.
A bit sombre this morning Roland? I like this poem though, it has a nice rhythm to it👍
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Thanks for commenting Dr B. Yes, I think it’s my love for your fellow-Cumbrian, Wordsworth’s, Lucy poems infecting me.
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That tale has been superbly told, rich with imagery…waiting for this old man to return to its grave, hope it takes along Covid – 19!
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Thank you, Balroop.
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