Clip pity clop, of horses hooves
sounds in the midnight late summers air.
Of new neighbors who moved in down the road
coming home from their night at the County fair.
Sounds of an era, of long, long ago
horses metal shoes slapping, now a pavements echo.
Coach lanters lit, to shine as they ride
cars slowly passing, as they drive along side.
Little heads seen in the carriage, by the glow of moons light
all dressed in black, with cotton shirts of pure white.
A gentle people I hear, and God fearing too
Neighbors living down the road, neighbors brand new.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is written very well and with very colorful images. I love the soft tone you use also. Thank you for sharing. Love & hugs, Barbara