Verse Written in a Storm Gone Mild
Generous years of youthful glory gone,
The night its welcome quietness brings.
The home is calm, the kitchen dark.
There are no visitors in the park.
The frogs croak not,
No bird sings,
A bark is left unbarked.
There is a peace that grows
on striven dreams, like moss.
A lock that was sprung is now unsprung.
A song that never was sung is sung.
Some of the wishes wished last year,
Unrecognized before, are here.
Content with their lives of ancient solitude,
Old fish still swim.
by Robert Hampton Burt