My November Guest.

By Alison November 1, 2006 3 Comments 1 Min Read


My sorrow when she’s here with me,
Thinks these dark days of  Autumn rain
Are beautiful as days can be:
She loves the bare, the withered tree,
She walks the sodden pasture lane.

Herpleasure will not let me stay
She talks and I  am fair to list:
She’s glad the birds have gone away,
She’s glad her simple worsted gray
Is silver now with clinging mist.

The desolate deserted tree’s,
The faded earth, the heavy sky.
The beauties she so truly see’s
She thinks I have no eyes for these,
And vexes me for reasons why.

Not yesterday I learned to know
The love of bare November days.
Before the coming of the snow.
But it were vain to tell her so,
And they are better for her praise.

Robert Frost.


  1. pinky says:

    Ilove this. Des pite living in the south of France, where ex pats insist on wearing shorts and sandals all through autumn, I long for the changes of season and especially this one where i can dig out woolies and go crunching through leaves in my wellies.
    An English friend who lived near us here,died recently and a get together is being organised in a chapel for those friends who didnt get to her funeral in the UK.I`d like to read this out as she was an Autumn baby and dearly loved this time of year and always made me see the beauty of the seasons. Thank you xxx

  2. Cindy says:

    Hi Alison and Pinky!
    What a lovely poem and such a lovely thought of you for your deseased friend Pinky! My condolances with your lost.
    I never realy like autumn, mostly because it rains alot during the day has hard winds and mainly because it's getting colder and days grow shorter. I'm a more summery person..but after reading the poem I must say that it touched my heart and it has made me change my way of thinking and feelings about Autumn…Thank you for saring this girls!
    May you both have a great Autumn!
    "Light the candles and bring me my wine!!

  3. Savannah says:

    Ah, of course Robert would know. I have always loved rains, grey skies, Robert Frost, and thee. I love that sentiment, Cindy. "Light the candles, and bring me my wine."

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