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al-droodPoems
Cold the day begins in earnest Gathering the mist at sunrise Magpie screams as thin beam strikes him Keen of eye and black of feather Crow in thicket calls his brethren Mist arises deep in valley Fallen petals lie in tumult Beaten down by squall that shook them Bramble, precious jewels wearing Berries black that shine like glory Blowing over endless hillsides None may tell the north wind’s story Dancing in the sighing branches Casting leaves of oak and willow Ash and beech and long-shanked rowan Bough and twig and fallen acorn Squirrel hoards for bitter future Whispers tales of coming Winter Green is now a fading memory Leaves lie crimson, brown and golden Ripe and awful apples moulder Boar lies sleeping fat and sated Mushroom blooms on rotting deadwood Nightshade sways on tumbled walling Fern grows dense by water running Down by where the gravestones standing Tell of those whose lives are ended Clad in moss and superstition Watching over generations Bends the old and twisted yew tree Shakes and laughs with storm-wracked holly Waiting for the day of reckoning Biding time through mankind’s folly Hears All Hallows Eve a-beckoning
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Oct 28, 2018
Oct 28, 2018 at 5:16 AM UTC
October Yew
Cold the day begins in earnest Gathering the mist at sunrise Magpie screams as thin beam strikes him Keen of eye and black of feather Crow in thicket calls his brethren Mist arises deep in valley Fallen petals lie in tumult Beaten down by squall that shook them Bramble, precious jewels wearing Berries black that shine like glory Blowing over endless hillsides None may tell the north wind’s story Dancing in the sighing branches Casting leaves of oak and willow Ash and beech and long-shanked rowan Bough and twig and fallen acorn Squirrel hoards for bitter future Whispers tales of coming Winter Green is now a fading memory Leaves lie crimson, brown and golden Ripe and awful apples moulder Boar lies sleeping fat and sated Mushroom blooms on rotting deadwood Nightshade sways on tumbled walling Fern grows dense by water running Down by where the gravestones standing Tell of those whose lives are ended Clad in moss and superstition Watching over generations Bends the old and twisted yew tree Shakes and laughs with storm-wracked holly Waiting for the day of reckoning Biding time through mankind’s folly Hears All Hallows Eve a-beckoning
al-drood
Written by
al-drood
M/North Yorkshire
Oct 28, 2018
Oct 28, 2018 at 5:16 AM UTC
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