Poetry of SlyM

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Lullaby (for an absent muse.)

Now do you hear the calling?
  The calling of the rains?
All through the town it's falling
  On silent streets and lanes.
The midnight bells are ringing
  And all around it seems
Each gentle tone is bringing
  The people rest and dreams.

One day, as June was just beginning
  And air was filled with thistle down
I took a walk, when clouds were thinning
  By the woods around the town.
There passed me by, a maiden, riding.
  Eyes as dazzling as the day.
My smile of joy could not stay hiding,
  But I, myself, found naught to say.

Now do you hear the calling?
  The calling of the rains?
All through the town it's falling
  On silent streets and lanes.
The midnight bells are ringing
  And all around it seems
Each gentle tone is bringing
  The people rest and dreams.

I stood there, silent, still, and gazing
  At her back, as she rode on.
And there remained, in sunlight blazing
  Minutes after she was gone.
Whence came that maiden, so enchanting?
  What are her thoughts? I wish to know.
And once beyond that pathway slanting
  Up the rise, where did she go?

Now do you hear the calling?
  The calling of the rains?
All through the town it's falling
  On silent streets and lanes.
The midnight bells are ringing
  And all around it seems
Each gentle tone is bringing
  The people rest and dreams.

Now sit I, by my window, thinking;
  Does she watch the raindrops too?
While at her kitchen table drinking
  Late night tea, or herbal brew.
Or is she in her chamber lying?
  Under blankets, soft as fleece.
Wherever now her breath is sighing,
  I pray that she has joy and peace.

Now do you hear the calling?
  The calling of the rains?
All through the town it's falling
  On silent streets and lanes.
The midnight bells are ringing
  And all around it seems
Each gentle tone is bringing
  The people rest and dreams.


Finished early 17.04.04