BOOK CATEGORIES
Authors
Short Stories
Long Stories
Funny Stories
Love Stories
Stories For Kids
Poems
Essays
Nonfictions
Plays
Folktales
Fairy Tales
Fables
Learning Kitchen
LINKS
Home
Famous Authors (View All Authors)
Post by :Mikeyf
Category :Poems
Author :John Presland
Date :November 2011
Read :3688
Click below to download : The Inn (Format : PDF)
The Inn
IFriendship's an inn the roads of life afford
--I'll speak to you in metaphor, my friend--
And there a tired man his way may wend,
And, coming in, sit down beside the board,
Out of the dust and glare, and boldly send
For drink and victuals; haply cross his knees,
And in the cool dark parlour take his ease,
And gossip of his journey and its end.
That's friendship; there is neither right of place
Nor landlord duties, just the short hour's stay
From the sun and weariness between those kind
And quiet walls; and when the road's to face
Stony and long again, we take our way
Keeping that respite gratefully in mind.
THE INN
II
We take our pack, and jog our way again
Towards the windy sunset and the night;
The inn is now behind us, out of sight,
Showing no welcome shine of windowpane,
But dark and silent standing by the way
As we go forward, seeing mile on mile
Sink out of sight--just for a little while
We rested, in the middle of the day.
Is there an end at last, and shall we reach,
By the faint glimmer of new-risen stars,
Our house at last, and find the heart-repose
Which is the ultimate desire of each
Poor traveller--ah! shall they drop the bars,
And the doors open? Dear my friend, who knows?
(The end)
John Presland's poem: Inn
NEXT BOOKS
To-day I miss you ... "Only for to-day, Some little matter of hours and nothing more." That at least the worldly-wise folk say, Who've never waited for the opening door, The greeting look, the known step on the floor; Who've never missed a loved one like a lover. To-day I miss you. What to-morrow brings Is the other side of all the stars, God knows! Only to have you here, now evening swings Its quiet shadow round the globe again, And in our talk of old familiar things, And
"to-day I Miss You"
PREVIOUS BOOKS
(From King Monmouth) O love that dwells in the innermost heart of man Secret and dark and still, Like a bird in the core of a green mid-summer tree-- Height upon height and depth upon depth where never the eye can see The brown bird, hidden and still. O Love that is wild and eager, sun-lit and free Like a seagull that turns in the sunlight above the sea; Between the sea and the sky it flashes and turns, And the sun on its wings is white, While sharply and shrill
Ilgar's Song
LEAVE A COMMENT