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Morag,  Morags Written Work

Untitled Works

This poem is untitled

This poem I found in my book is dated 19th December 2003.

A chill is in the air
A whisper in the trees
A creeping little scare
That rustles in the leaves.

A howl is in the night
Fades into a hush
A twinkling little light
That lingers in the brush.

A call is in the breeze
A tingle up the spine
A trickling little freeze
That escapes into the vine.


I like this poem, it obviously wasn’t about the night that I wrote it, since most of the trees wouldn’t have leaves in December. And also the house I was living in 2003, there weren’t many trees around it. Unless I wrote it when I was college, or at the train station on my way home from college that day (I checked and it was Friday, so I may have been at college that day).

If you can think of a good name for it, feel free to comment below or email us.