Monday, November 30, 2009

I Sit and Think

I sit beside the fire and think
of all that I have seen,
of meadow-flowers and butterflies
in summers that have been;
Of yellow leaves and gossamer
in autumns that there were,
with morning mist and silver sun
and wind upon my hair.
I sit beside the fire and think
of how the world will be
when winter comes without a spring
that I shall never see.

For still there are so many things
that I have never seen:
in every wood in every spring
there is a different green.

I sit beside the fire and think
of people long ago,
and people who will see a world
that I shall never know.

But all the while I sit and think
of times there were before,
I listen for returning feet
and voices at the door.

3 comments:

  1. "But all the while I sit and think
    of times there were before,
    I listen for returning feet
    and voices at the door."
    That was the most befitting ending to a wonderful poem. It really inspired me to write something: "I look for the fallen beads, and my heart is ever on the lookout for a precious one so that I cherish it forever and ever but nothing to be seen or heard, it is only the heartbeat that stays with me reminding me of the each and every memory."
    Thannks for such an inspirational poem...glad to have visited your blog.

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