A Winters Tale
© Author & Poet Tom Ryan.
I saw a tree, branches like five gnarled fingers,
Bare, barren against a sky of austere lead,
And I shivered.
Cold, gaunt the time,
The mist’s on the mountains,
Night shadows fall fast on the day,
The wind moans in the haggard crying for summer,
And each human greeting’s
More a wheeze, a cough, a sneeze.
The woodshed’s full
A cat, back to fire
Glares at secret places round the house.
That warm retreat from winter and from woe.
We clap our hands for warmth,
For comfort grimly eye the sky .
And all in vain.
We sip the tea
With hearts in one great hurry for the Spring.End
[Tom Ryan ,“Iona”, Rahealty, Thurles, Co. Tipperary.]
VERY NICE
OH: Absolutely beautiful. How I wish I could swap with you. We are sweltering with the heat. It’s suppose to be the last day of summer still the sweltering heat keeps coming. George lovely pictures great for our Artist to paint. But I suppose not so good for Arthritis sufferers.
Keep safe.