A Frosty Morn - Poem by ANDREW BLAKEMORE
A frosty morn I walk alone
I blow my hands to keep them warm,
As sunlight shines but weakly through
The lightly dusted trees,
The sky as blue as summer but
No warmth to melt the bitter chill,
And all around the land is gripped
By winter's cruelest freeze.
No song to fill the silent air
While faintest mist does firmly cling,
To branch and bough across the field
And drapes the lowly hedge,
Where silken webs adorn the twigs
Like viels upon the bridal gown,
With diamond dew and silver thread
They make their solemn pledge.
And as I walk along the way
My footmarks left upon the grass,
So crisp and white where autumn leaves
Make patterns on the ground,
I won't look back but look ahead
For spring awaits to bring me cheer,
As nature sleeps my heart is lost
For sorrow's all I've found.
I lean upon this tree so bare
Where once we rested in its shade,
But offers me no comfort now
Yet still seems like a friend,
I place my hand upon the trunk
But now its rough and pitted bark,
On which I carved my lover's name
Now marks my lover's end.
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