Winter Repose

<p>Snow ghosts wafted across the field;The grape vines offered little shield.Towards the river they were bound Chased by a lost hunting hound.</p><p><br></p><p><br></p><p>It gave the geese a terrible fright And as if together they took flight. But then the ghosts took to ground</p><p>And the hound made a circle round.</p><p><br></p><p><br></p><p>It headed west straight away</p><p>As if it had finally found its way</p><p>Back to the field from which it came A little slower and a little lame.</p><p><br></p><p><br></p><p>The sun is setting scarlet for sureAs I give ol' Jack a light prick of spur.I hope to get back to the stable all right</p><p>Before the early onset of night.</p><p><br></p><p><br></p><p><br>