CIMPLE – A Curious Introvert's Musings & Photos about Life and Enjoyment

November comes

And November goes,

With the last red berries

And the first white snows.

With night coming early,

And dawn coming late,

And ice in the bucket

And frost at the gate.

The fires burn

And the kettles sing,

And earth sinks to rest

Until next spring.

Elizabeth Coatsworth