Author Stephen Owen I get off my horse, offer you wine,Ask you where you are goingYou say there is something troubling youAnd go home to rest at the edge of southern hillsBe off them—I'll ask no more—White clouds for eternity. Tags Short Poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments