November
Remember,my friends,remember
The dark,dark month of November
That grim time when trees are stripped bare
And light is failing everywhere
Spirits are glum,spirits are blue
Such black gloom does our hearts subdue.
Pleasure seems to fast fade away
With the light of each dying day
Who is there who does not feel glum
As autumn ends with worse to come
A tiny spark of hope remains
A mere flicker in this month's rains
In this sad cycle of the year
Old ghosts in our minds reappear
Those dread visions drag our moods down
And haunt our grim faces with a frown
After cruel winter's return
Hope we must for bright dawns to burn.
Copyright © Denis Bruce | Year Posted 2020
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