MISTY MORNING

Misty, grey, November morning,
Everything still,
The sky is grey,
As the rain falls,

Drip, drip, against the fence it falls,
There is not a single cloud in the sky,
Just grey, quiet, stillness,
The grass is mucky and soggy,

And yet the birds continue to sing.
Perhaps they know the secret of the day,
That the grey will lift,
And the sun will colour the day.

Margaret Fearn

Discover more…

THE BOOK

To open it and not be able to put it down,
To love some of the characters

OUTSIDE MELODY’S PUB

The Valley looks absolutely resplendent on a lovely summer’s day

SEA SHORE OBSERVATIONS

Lost in the misty September morning I sat there,
Content just to be there

outLoud Poetry

At OutLoud, we believe that poetry is more than just words on a page—it’s an expression of the soul, a connection between hearts, and a celebration of the human experience.