Winter's day has seen its last,
The clocks are winding down,
O're the hills a shadow's cast,
Lamenting; the lonely sound.
Desolation again and again,
The chair it rocks the seconds,
Gazing through a dirty pane,
Upon emptiness that beckons.
Counting years, long foregone,
Empty home's, a living tomb,
Distant friends, all passed on,
Daylight; moves room to room.
A tear dried track upon the cheek,
Fond memories burn the mind,
Once youth, now feeble and weak,
All things; must pass with time.
Darkness falls gently o're the land,
A cold body embraced by the bed,
Hourglass empty's, last grain of sand,
Opened book, will lie unread.
Ashes to ashes, and dust to dust,
A calm settles through the home,
Even new metal shall turn to rust,
Our demise we must face alone.
Choose; this day, with whom you wish to be,
Choose wisely of now, through your eternity.
G.R. Gaus's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (December Midnight by G.R. Gaus )
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
A Dream Within A Dream
Edgar Allan Poe
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(9 November 1928 – 4 October 1974)
(12 June 1819 – 23 January 1875)
RoseAnn V. Shawiak
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(March 1, 1921)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
William Butler Yeats
(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939)
(17 June 1867 – 2 September 1922)
- WH Auden
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- The Poetry of A Root Crop, Charles Kingsley
- Prophecy of a Ten Ton Cheese, James McIntyre
- Orchard Trees, January, Richard Wilbur
- The Fury Of Guitars and Sopranos, Anne Sexton
- Housewife, Anne Sexton
- A Legacy, Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
- No, I'm not Byron; I am, yet, Mikhail Yuryevich Lermontov
- Daffodils, William Wordsworth
- A Sad Child, Margaret Atwood