It was in September, when first my love did die
When your fruit was hardening with softness
Like the skin of pears waited their turn
To deliver the year’s promised labour
Before his winkly, crinkly, crystal-blue eyes
Danced with the Autumn night stars
That haloed his Celtic want
That was a full twelve months of waiting
And still he stays in the hills, dancing a swirl
To leave both dog and fire to father his brogue
You told me so
It was in September, when I and swallows left
© Harry Mills 22 October 2011: Philippines
All rights reserved
Danced with the Autumn night stars
That haloed his Celtic want
That was a full twelve months of waiting
And still he stays in the hills, dancing a swirl
To leave both dog and fire to father his brogue
You told me so
It was in September, when I and swallows left
© Harry Mills 22 October 2011: Philippines
All rights reserved
No comments:
Post a Comment