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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=460476" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>0022 November</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">November, I’m almost ready now<br>to take you on: <br>every year<br>you throw all that you can at me –</div><div style="margin:10px 0">above all, that sadness which lurks beyond<br>the all and any reason; steals into the blood; <br>taps at the heart with long-forgotten regrets, <br>drains the energy; lurks with all its<br>theatre tricks and stage props –</div><div style="margin:10px 0">in the countryside, leaves falling like failed dreams, <br>their smell underfoot, of earth and rain and snow and mud; <br>in the town, the acrid smell of sodden fireworks; then come<br>poppies and guns, trenches, death, <br>and waste of life, futility and war; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">draining the light from brief sad afternoons, <br>the grey depressing drizzle of eternity without hope..<br>warping thought, draining enthusiasm, <br>blunting the sharp edge of pleasure; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">you’ll carry your campaign right through<br>December if you can…as the spirit wearies, daylight fades, <br>do all you can to ruin Christmas; already linking arms<br>with New Year bleakness to complete your ruthless task..</div><div style="margin:10px 0">November, I’m almost ready now<br>to take you on: knowing you<br>for what you are: the yearly test<br>of inner resources and resilience, <br>the soul stripped bare; bare branches<br>stripped of leaves; king and fool<br>together on the heath in storm, <br>bare humanity… so</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I’ll be prepared – turn the heat up, <br>stoke the heart’s fires; <br>drink myself sociable; consider charity; <br>think of others; play with generosity; <br>remember love; stand fast as faith; <br>be hope itself; not look outside<br>for all that’s inner to be found; <br>be all that’s Spring and strong<br>and damn the passing seasons; dance<br>with merriment and laughter; be<br>strong as roughbarked tree trunk <br>bending in a winter gale, standing<br>stronger from the test;</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Michael+Shepherd">Michael Shepherd</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=460476" data-title="0022 November de Michael Shepherd" data-description="November, I’m almost ready now
to take you on: 
every year
you throw all that you can at me –

above all, that sadness which lurks beyond
the all and any reason; steals into the blood; 
taps at the heart with long-forgotten regrets, 
drains th..."></div>
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