A Fogged Night

Might I pass this night with you in splendor,
Perched high on carriage this fine November,
To go to supper, near the park,
Just past eight, into the dark?

Can we sup on delights of roasted beasts,
And greens crisp, with breads from yeasts,
And pass the evening joined in chatter,
Let the time be not of matter?

The Horse clacks in unison with wheels of creak,
And hushes our words whilst we dare speak,
Shaking his head to left and right,
Bidding adieu upon this night.




Poetry by Morpheus
Read 435 times
Written on 2011-02-11 at 06:20

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Morpheus
Ken, such an appropriate addition. Thank you kind sir!
2011-02-11


ken d williams The PoetBay support member heart!
Thou the night a pea super , the night are is cold , the carrige rolls on , thinking of a fire , think of roasting meet , wrap a blanket around us , talking to the dawn brakes , telling story's golish some , ghost's tails too , many a yarn spun , of good chear , freinds well met

Thanks , Morpheus , I just had to write in reponce. I hope that you did not mind to much.
Ken ( D Williams )
2011-02-11