I saw Winter 'neath a spindle tree,
She plucked berries bright to crown her head.
She was singing little robin's song
While wild beech-leaves round and round her spread.
I ran home into my little house,
Pulled to the shutters, barred up the door;
I knelt down to blow the fire to flame,
Great dark shadows danced upon the floor.
Long-legged shadows came from corners drear,
Leaped up white walls, fell, and climbed again.
I hear North Wind pushing at the gate,
I won't open, not for wind or rain.
Oh, run home, wee ones, lest the whirling leaves
Take ye far away, fairy folk to see.
Crowning her dark hair with berries red
I saw Winter 'neath a spindle tree.
..........the image of winter is created beautifully...loved..
Wow, the imagination that this poem creates! Such beautiful verses. ~Besa
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Great Fantasy...I enjoyed it Oh, run home, wee ones, lest the whirling leaves Take ye far away, fairy folk to see. Crowning her dark hair with berries red I saw Winter 'neath a spindle tree.