Shine soon orb
Of golden yellow
Warm the back
Of yon poor fellow
Out at dawn
In frost to field
A biting wind
That did not yield
Now you’ve risen
With your glow
Shine on him
With seeds to sow
© 2008 David Threadgold
Rambling Riddles & Rhymes
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
You've got that one right Sir David! Frost on the pumpkins here! 10! Best, Linda