My old cottage

Reads: 210  | Likes: 1  | Shelves: 1  | Comments: 0

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic

  A cottage


It was one evening of September 

When it was shrieking wind of autumn 

I still remember. 

How the howling wind outside 

Gave me that feeling of mourning 

And darkened heavens brought 

Me closer to the gloom of 


But anyway I can’t help it 

How can a marooned soul 

Do anything but eat drink and slumber. 

Can I meet her unruly spirit 

Outside in such a time 

Playful figure who used to haunt my ripe and sunny fields,


When We used to drink life from a golden cup. 

All hopes had been reduced to ashes 

And we’re left with songs to remember.


I peeped out and murky skies have begun massing a black veil of sagging clouds almost touched my dwelling 

My lavender .

And daffodils are wrestling with the fury of nature. 

But this is a garden weather-beaten. 

Still there is in my bosom a garden of old daffodils and blooming memories. 



Submitted: September 08, 2019

© Copyright 2020 mr ali. All rights reserved.

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

Add Your Comments:

Other Content by mr ali

Poem / Commercial Fiction

Poem / Fantasy

Poem / Commercial Fiction