On The Olden Tree And Tall They Sat. Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai
On The Olden Tree And Tall They Sat.
A nightingale
And an Owl
On the olden tree and tall they sat.
And it was deepening of night
And it was chill of want.
Yet wisdom brewed and brimmed.
A nightingale
And an Owl
Midnight
One
Two
Three the hours struck
And still no ghosts
No, not even of the
cusp of Night.
No, not even of the cusp of morn
A nightingale
And an Owl.
Friday, January 26, 2024
Topic(s) of this poem: ghosts
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8/29/2026 9:52:22 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
