Dream House

Down on our house good shelter falls
From those high neighbouring white walls,
And here it dreams among its flowers
And bushes bright with summer showers.

Its creepered brick soaks up the smile
Of noon and afternoon, the while
The bees go tunnelling the deep
Dim lily bells that sway and sleep.

The day slips on, and sun's hot eye
Cools in the lime trees, down the sky.
'Tis twilight now, the birds refrain
From song, and all is still again.

Now night creeps over, distance hides;
The white house—a tall iceberg—rides;
A chafer breaks the darkened swoon,
And white wide roses scan the moon.
Rate this poem: 

Reviews

No reviews yet.