A Poem for November
The nights are closing in and winter is fast approaching.
While all is dark and frosty outside, we at Marylebone House love to curl up with a good collection of poems. Here is the perfect poem for those long winter evenings, from master writer, Kenneth Steven…
The morning the storm was gone
The fields thin with water
The branches waving bare,
Their last leaves curling the sky.
And there, in a land left gaunt,
Novembered by days of wild –
Swans, some folded against the wind
Some flying at half-mast above.
The huge slowness of their grace in the air
In the tangled wool of the sky;
Their beauty bigger in the buffeted air,
Their whiteness whiter.
They were ice carvings
Held and frozen high;
Hope of a new year still sleeping
In the land so sore below.
As well as poetry (this is from his most recent, Letting in the Light), Kenneth Steven also writes short stories and novels, including his recent Winter Tales and The Well of the North Wind, both published with Marylebone House.