The Brook
The
clouds crept in,
Kissing
every tree,
Devouring
every leaf,
Leaving
the beyond clad
In
a ghostly garment.
And as the icy hands
Slid
across my face,
I
shivered,
And
stood still.
Below
this very pine,
We
had lain,
Letting
the tender sunshine,
Of
our love,
Overflow,
To
the brook below,
Down
into the valley,
To
spread and settle down,
In
tranquillity.
And
the clouds crept in,
Kissing,
Devouring
me.
Only
the restlessness of the brook
Kept
me awake, to this
Enveloping
solitude.
And
it was the brook,
That
had sung,
The
lullaby of my love.
