Sonnet #1, Where Tall Trees Dance
Afternoon's here in the valley of wood
where the tall trees dance; as long walks covet
ambiance of romance and gentle calm.
silence, serene, the only sound being
light snow falling; like twinkling glimmers of
diamonds tapping branches on the way down.
snow covered and my candle is alight
on the window sill near the warming fire.
The reddish orange glow and falling snow
elicit memory of marshmallows,
steamy mugs of delicious hot cocoa.
our boots, hats and scarves hang by the back door.
time to remember those grand youthful days
and the simple ways here; where tall trees dance.
Ken Allan Dronsfield is a disabled veteran, poet and fabulist from New Hampshire, now residing on the southern plains of Oklahoma. Ken enjoys music, writing and spending time with his cats Willa, Hemi, Turbo and Yumpy. He has two poetry collections, The Cellaring and A Taint of Pity, just released.