Sep 20, 2014

Poetry Solace: of mother nature

One last poem from Emily Dickinson.. Next I'll move to ..

Nature, the gentlest mother,
Impatient of no child,
The feeblest or the waywardest, - 
Her admonition mild

In forest and the hill
By traveller is heard,
Restraining rampant squirrel 
Or too impetuous bird.

How fair her conversation,
A summer afternoon, - 
Her household, her assembly;
And when the sun goes down

Her voice among the aisles
Incites the timid prayer
Of the minutest cricket,

The most unworthy flower.

When all children sleep
She turns as long way
As will suffice to light her lamps;
Then, bending from the sky

With infinite affection
And infiniter care,
Her golden finger on her lip,
Wills silence everywhere.

Have a great weekend! Enjoy but stay safe!

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