deepundergroundpoetry.com
Solitary Night
From room to room I wander,
of how the walls climb,
My heart wakes to rhythm,
a head furling of rime
Tis late and it’s frigid
in the land of the solitary night,
Where tomorrow sleeps wonders,
in slight lullaby
My little lambs are sheeting,
neatly in fold,
Corners with creasing,
where nearby a lamp glows,
And a Westminster omnipresent
tocks royal the time,
Challenging each passing hour,
like a guard keeping eye,
As the Lexington Minuteman
is keeping imminent stride,
And how long till the light,
until it goes back by,
Watching the light pass,
how long was I blind?
And oh how long
until forever gone...
Wake me in the trying times,
and please love me long,
The heart produces the rhythm,
and the rhythm's the song.
of how the walls climb,
My heart wakes to rhythm,
a head furling of rime
Tis late and it’s frigid
in the land of the solitary night,
Where tomorrow sleeps wonders,
in slight lullaby
My little lambs are sheeting,
neatly in fold,
Corners with creasing,
where nearby a lamp glows,
And a Westminster omnipresent
tocks royal the time,
Challenging each passing hour,
like a guard keeping eye,
As the Lexington Minuteman
is keeping imminent stride,
And how long till the light,
until it goes back by,
Watching the light pass,
how long was I blind?
And oh how long
until forever gone...
Wake me in the trying times,
and please love me long,
The heart produces the rhythm,
and the rhythm's the song.
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