The moon is like a scimitar,
A little silver scimitar,
A-drifting down the sky.
And near beside it is a star,
A timid twinkling golden star,
That watches like an eye.
And thro' the nursery window-pane
The witches have a fire again,
Just like the ones we make, -
And now I know they're having tea,
I wish they'd give a cup to me,
With witches' currant cake.
Dusk In Autumn
Sara Teasdale
(2)
Poem topics: fire, moon, silver, sky, golden, window, star, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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