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smallstepsmadpotepotriemantheartfulcodgerscogterrasverse
Winter 1947


I have tried to write so many times
About the effects of that first sight
But somehow after all these years
I still just can't get it really right
I remember that winter so very well
With high snow walls everywhere
With paths lined like open tunnels
Better than dig your own way there
And I remember those two shires
Yes I remember them of course
Remember staring wide eyed
At each great dark cold horse
Snow up to their shoulders
So that only neck and head
Stood above that white field
Both of them frozen dead
Through cold eye lids
I knew that they saw
Threw reproachful glances
That I still can't ignore
In another century now
So many years past
And maybe very soon
I'll get it right at last
And maybe then just maybe
With their stories well told
No horses then in my dreams
No fields of bitter white cold
No two figures
Cold and dark
In that landscape
White and stark
Yes maybe one day maybe soon
I'll tell that story just right
For their visits to cease
And bring a life of peaceful nights










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