A cold hard
And callous moon
Looked down upon
The frozen pools
The icy breeze
With slapping hands
About the face
Pain it lands.
The lonesome tree
In the park
With drooping face
And battered bark
Its dwindling strength
With hanging limbs
Its branches broken
Its sadness sings.
To frost upon
The shining slates
Of each rooftop
In darkness waits
The warming day
The suns bright face
To take away
Its bitter taste.
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Author:
nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson) (
Offline) - Published: December 4th, 2025 02:55
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 37
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett, teardrop
Offline)
Comments5
Good write N.
Thanks its appreciated
Erm, does the sun echo too? Note to self: Do shut up Orchi! lol.
I think it does
This one so poetically written in beautiful images it had to be a fave.
so kind, thanking you its much appreciated
You are most welcome
Ah Winter, so beautiful yet so taxing on the soul. Excellent poem!
very kind, thanking you and appreciated comments
I love reading your poetry. Your words seem to scream emotikons. IThe lonsome tree in the park....brillant!
iI am so glad you enjoyed it many thanks and as always your comments much appreciated
I have always found the moonlight to be calming and serene- am impressed with your version of it and hope the sun keeps shining bright on you
most kind, thanking you and appreciated as always
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