"These are the dreams that wedge the grey,"
a wizened apple on the tree
(Continues warm; rain spots the day.)
lone and leathery, sang to me.
"Distract your busy lives away,"
it sang a song of gold and red,
(These are the dreams that wedge the grey.)
"or sink in deserts of your bed;
leave this undone and that delay,"
it sang of promises strewn below,
(Continues warm; rain spots the grey.)
"and all high boast is laid down low.
These are the dreams that wedge the grey,
distract your busy life away,
leave this undone and that delay,
and ragged children set astray.
For want of the cool - a few degrees -
these are the dreams that wedge the grey -
civilizations brought to their knees."
Continues warm; rain spots the day.
...........................
Homage to W.B Yeats and James Joyce.
YOU ARE READING
Wintering
PoetryIt's yet another MajorSeventh. Hop on the big shoulders and look ... Lastest poems are always posted last in my collections. Winter. So, expect sparse gardens, late autumn and wintry countryside, wry philosophy and humour, tenderness towards litt...
