Not Till Next Year Poem by josie iorianni
Not Till Next Year
Rating: ★5.0
As the gentle warm breeze comes to an end
A gust of cold autumn dust came rolling in
The feeling of the bitter breeze and
The touch of the snowy leaves
Wishing for the Sun to shine
But no luck for me
Still grey and stormy skies
Brush over the top of me
No glint of light
Still the miserable clouds
Blackened fog fills the air
No summer till next year.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
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4/25/2024 11:46:09 PM # 1.0.0.1119
nice work dear Still grey and stormy skies Brush over the top of me i like this a 10 from me