November Poem by Sally Plumb Plumb
November
The wind is dying
and memories
like falling leaves
lay dead
in aching dread
of you now gone.
Sweet songs
once sung in love
with greetings
of tomorrow
sorrowfully are
displayed
like dampened branches,
stretching bare
unwelcoming
as cold night air.
November is love gone.
Sally Plumb
so sad but such a lovely romantic poem sally, Really enjoyed it.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/6/2024 6:32:32 PM # 1.0.0.1119
B U tiful mrs PP.... :)
Thank you for your comment early bird... it ac ‘t be said for me.