Queen's Poems A stormy day before the snow
and the gales of autumn scour birch leaves from branches scatter them across the gardenís remains the poppies and forget-me-nots ready for
willow tosses above the cobbled margin of the tide line. salt
spray and sand etch panes trembling in weathered frames. stove ash circulates suspended in damp drafts born of the buffeting storm and settles in my cooling coffee as I drink it in.
couple cords yet to split and stack against snows soon to descend, but time now just to sit and sip coffee, just to listen to the planet roaring, listen to the quiet heart grateful for the full cellar and a well banked fire,
for enough to last the winter, enough to want for nothing more.
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