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My November Guest

Rating: 3.6

My Sorrow, when she's here with me,
Thinks these dark days of autumn rain
Are beautiful as days can be;
She loves the bare, the withered tree;
She walks the sodden pasture lane.

Her pleasure will not let me stay.
She talks and I am fain to list:
She's glad the birds are gone away,
She's glad her simple worsted grey

Is silver now with clinging mist.
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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
M Asim Nehal 10 December 2015

Amusing poem.............. Not yesterday I learned to know The love of bare November days Before the coming of the snow, But it were vain to tell her so, And they are better for her praise

2 3 Reply
* Sunprincess * 30 October 2012

oh this one put a smile on my face..only a true nature love could have written this one..a pleasure to read..fabulous.. :)

7 4 Reply