Sunday, October 23, 2016

The Brook

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,
To the brook below,
Down into the valley,
To spread and settle down,
In tranquillity.

And the clouds crept in,
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.

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