Last night in my feverish dreams I heard
A voice like the moan of an autumn sea,
Or the low, sad wail of a widowed bird,
And it said-”My darling, come home to me.”
Then a hand was laid on my throbbing head-
As cold as clay, but it soothed my pain:
I wakened and knew from among the dead
My darling stood by my coach again.
My Dead
Hanford Lennox Gordon
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Poem topics: autumn, home, night, pain, sad, sea, bird, voice, head, cold, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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