The h2g2 Poem

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Outside my open window it looms.

Out of sight;

In the dark;

Standing guard.

The sweet scent of pitch from broken boughs

Fills the night;

And my thoughts;

Taking charge.

Hear the hiss and the whistle as the breezes blow by.

Little voices;

In the dark;

In the yard.

Those lonely whispers from the pine-tree spirits

Cause an ache;

Like a throb;

In my heart.

smiley - birosmiley - birosmiley - biro

Poetry by ATinyDistantVoice


05.04.07 Front Page

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