The Hunters Return.
T
Tom Allport
0
Altın Yaprak
Beneath snow covered jagged peaks
The frozen river gives sport
A watermill now sleeps
All covered in snaw
On a cold winters day
The sad hunters return
With their meagre prey
They trudge quietly and wearily
Under downcast trees most bare
Their tired dogs now
To tired to chase hare
A fire burns close by
With some cooking food
While wood smoke fills the air
The birds sing with attitude.
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş