Loneliness

Now it is Loneliness who comes at night

instead of Sleep, to sit beside my bed.

Like a tired child I lie and wait her tread

I watch her softly blowing out the light.

Motionless sitting, neither left or right

She turns, and weary, weary droops her head

She, too, is old; she, too, has fought the fight.

So, with the laurel she is garlanded.

Through the sad dark the slowly ebbing tide 

Breaks on a barren shore, unsatisfied

A strange wind flows...then silence. I am fain

To turn to Loneliness, to take her hand.

Cling to her, waiting, till the barren land

Fills with the dreadful monotone of rain.

Poem by Katherine Mansfield

Journey

Ah, could I lay me down in this long grass

And close my eyes, and let the quiet wind

Blow over me-I am so tired, so tired

Of passing pleasant places! All my life,

Following Care along the dusty road

Have I looked back at the loveliness and sighed;

Yet at my hand an unrelenting hand

Tugged ever, and I passed.  All my life long

Over my shoulder have I looked at peace;

And now I fain would lie in this long grass

And close my eyes

Poem by Edna St Vincent Millay

Photo by magicalplacesfineart.com

Morning Visits

 

Leaning on your window

With a twinkle in your eye

You greet your feathered friends

Before they say good-bye.

Each and every morning

It's the highlight of your day

To have them stop a while

and eat some of your bread.