Now deep in chairs, in front of the great fire, we grip Our hearts and cannot entertain book, thought, Or each other. We watch the fire blazing, And feel the roots of the house move, but sit on, Seeing the window tremble to come in, Hearing the st...
Till day rose; then under an orange sky The hills had new places, and wind wielded Blade-light, luminous black and emerald, Flexing like the lens of a mad eye.
This house has been far out at sea all night, The woods crashing through darkness, the booming hills, Winds stampeding the fields under the window
But I, being poor, have only my dreams; I have spread my dreams under your feet; Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
Mommy Yiu
3 last ft ft ft by no hbnn Dr no no k mom