The Faithful Swallow

When summer shone

Its sweetest on

An August day,

"Here evermore,"

I said, "I'll stay;

Not go away

To another shore

As fickle they!"

December came:

'Twas not the same!

I did not know

Fidelity

Would serve me so.

Frost, hunger, snow;

And now, ah me,

Too late to go!

A quote from a Hardy novel

“Clare arose in the light of a dawn that was ashy and furtive, as though associated with crime. The fireplace confronted him with its extinct embers; the spread supper-table, whereon stood the two full glasses of untasted wine, now flat and filmy; her vacated seat and his own; the other articles of furniture, with their eternal look of not being able to help it, their intolerable inquiry what was to be done?” (Tess of the D'Urbervilles)

Who says poems have to rhyme
The first post of the new blog is now online
whosayspoemshavetorhyme.blogspot.com

-o0o-