Share:
  Guess poet | Poets | Poets timeline | Isles | Contacts

Edith Nesbit - The Point Of View: IEdith Nesbit - The Point Of View: I
Work rating: Low


I There was never winter, summer only:  roses, Pink and white and red, Shining down the warm rich garden closes; Quiet trees and lawns of dappled shadow, Silver lilies, whisper of mignonette, Cloth-of-gold of buttercups outspread; Good gold sun that kissed me when we met, Shadows of floating clouds on sunny meadow. In the hay-field, scented, grey, Loving life and love, I lay; By fresh airs blown, drifted into sleep; Slept and dreamed there.  Winter was the dream. II Summer never was, was always winter only; Cold and ice and frost Only, driven by the ice-wind, lonely, In a world of strangers, in the welter Of the puddles and the spiteful wind and sleet, Blinded by the spitting hailstones, lost In a bitter unfamiliar street, I found a doorway, crouched there for just shelter, Crouched and fought in vain for breath, Cursed the cold and wished for death; Crouched there, gathered somehow warmth to sleep; Slept and dreamed there.  Summer was the dream.
Source

The script ran 0.001 seconds.