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the scribbler

Location: london, United Kingdom

Member Since: January 2010

Open for read requests: Yes

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On a cold wintry morn, Just before dawn, When, mist and murk decree doom, A glimmer there stole, Through an unlikely hole, In the shadowy shapes of the gloom! This flicker of light, Though slender and slight, Crept through the dark, dismal shapes, A thicket of sorts, And their bustling consorts, Dishevelled by disorderly drapes! Their windswept wigs, Were tangled twigs, They wore leaves instead of cloaks, Could it be, that these, Yes, these were trees, A spruce and some very old oaks!

I'm a dreamer!


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