The Dark Wood
(Re: Old Poems)
Far away on the moor, wind creeps quiet:
When the golden rays fade and the day's gone;
From a nook rustling in the woods of night,
Cries a whippoorwill ever and anon.
Thickets skirting and swirling untill dawn;
She wended her way, swept by Queen Anne's lace;
To be cloak'd by dark waters, heap'd upon
The sweet enchanted blossoms of her face;
The woods dwell in slumber, and shadows hide all trace.
In the bosom of night's darkness, she lay
Hiding behind the drowsy shades of moon;
Once gleaming brook murmurs under the sway
Of her gambols in the roses wind strewn,
Beneath bowers of a magical rune;
A dew spent lingering about afloat,
So shall the bleak wind before it dies soon
'pon the autumn wood, fading in dim note;
And souls lull'd to repose wearing the midnight coat.
(22/4/2013)
(Spenserian Stanzas)
..
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