One early morn inside the silent wood
Beneath the ghostly trees where I stood
A wise brown owl perched upon a tree
Clouded in darkness and misery
The ferns tied fast around thy feet
Covered in a blanket of soft white sleet
The golden leaves that fell from grace
The raindrops that fell upon thy face
Upon a moss covered stone I did sit
Beneath the parliament who did flutter and flit
I gazed through gloom like one
Whose life had frayed and came undone
A winter mood, very deep and expressive. The stanzas sing, but the wood does not. Ten without hesitation, Nicola. Warmest regards, Sandra
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Dark imagery mixed with deep expression... well done, Nicola! ! Brian