Getting away
by cricketjeff on November 6, 2009. © Jeff Green, All rights reserved
November’s English weather mopes and grieves
Her brows arrayed in deary warship grey
Above the muddy mush of fallen leaves
The dark of night soon sweeps away the day
Last night the Moon was beautiful to see
And stayed to see me leaving for the train
But by the time I’d made a cup of tea
The gold blue dawn had turned to grey and rain
There’s beauty in a storm of lightning bolts
But drizzle simply leaves you cold and wet
The majesty of twenty million volts
Is preferable to days of damp regret
But cold wet days mean nights to dream of more
Of fireside rugs and cuddles on the floor
English