My November Guest, Robert Frost
November rain
Nigel Borrington
My sorrow, when she’s here with me,
Thinks these dark days of autumn rain
Are beautiful as days can be;
She loves the bare, the withered tree;
She walks the sodden pasture lane.
Her pleasure will not let me stay.
She talks and I am fain to list:
She’s glad the birds are gone away,
She’s glad her simple worsted gray
Is silver now with clinging mist.
The desolate, deserted trees,
The faded earth, the heavy sky,
The beauties she so truly sees,
She thinks I have no eye for these,
And vexes me for reason why.
Not yesterday I learned to know
The love of bare November days
Before the coming of the snow,
But it were vain to tell her so,
And they are better for her praise.
Nigel Borrington 
Lovely, Nigel.
November 21, 2016 at 10:14 pm
Thank you 🙂 🙂
November 22, 2016 at 11:03 am
Love it!
November 22, 2016 at 12:05 am
🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂
November 22, 2016 at 11:03 am
So long since I read Robert Frost. Thanks Nigel
November 22, 2016 at 9:10 pm
A Pleasure 🙂 🙂
November 22, 2016 at 9:46 pm