David Herbert Lawrence

Nottinghamshire / England
David Herbert Lawrence
Nottinghamshire / England
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A Winter's Tale

Rating: 3.1
Yesterday the fields were only grey with scattered snow,
And now the longest grass-leaves hardly emerge;
Yet her deep footsteps mark the snow, and go
On towards the pines at the hills’ white verge.

I cannot see her, since the mist’s white scarf
Obscures the dark wood and the dull orange sky;
But she’s waiting, I know, impatient and cold, half
Sobs struggling into her frosty sigh.
Why does she come so promptly, when she must know
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COMMENTS
Edward Kofi Louis 02 January 2015
Nice piece of work. Thanks for sharing this poem with us. E.K.L.
1 0 Reply
Magnificent poem and very hearty to read it.
4 0 Reply

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