MS (8.4.1929 / Marton, Lancashire)

To Natasha

The crimson summer now grows pale;
Clear, bright days now soar away;
Hazy mist spreads through the vale,
As the sleeping night turns gray;
The barren cornfields lose their gold;
The lively stream has now turned cold;
The curly woods are gray and stark,
And the heavens have grown dark.

Where are you, my light, Natasha?
No one's seen you, - I lament.
Don't you want to share the passion
Of this moment with a friend?
You have not yet met with me
By the pond, or by our tree,
Though the season has turned late,
We have not yet had a date.

Winter’s cold will soon arrive
Fields will freeze with frost, so bitter.
In the smoky shack, a light,
Soon enough, will shine and glitter.
I won't see my love, - I'll rage
Like a finch, inside a cage,
And at home, depressed and dazed,
I’ll recall Natasha's grace.

User Rating: 3,1 / 5 ( 28 votes ) 11

Comments (11)

Contentment in short but the imagery was amazing... All we need a few cues from a great mind and you've mastered the art in it.
Peace exudes from these few words - a ten, and no less.
a picture's worth 21 words, in this case...
Simply beautiful poem Mr. Shepherd, thanks for sharing. rate is 10 for me.
Now this feels good, I love it.--Melvina--
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