(Written in 2017)
Upon the forlorn steps, surveying An old estate in deepening gloom, I listless stood, among the silent, towering, Lonely pillars—graceful remnants of some doom. The place was dark (I wanted day), And yet I also wished to wander, For in the dim descending twilight lay What seemed to be a ruin or a garden. A path led down—so long untaken-- The inky sky was starless and half-hid by looming trees; But fresh night breezes, like the rain and roses shaken, Blew, so softly scented with the humid earth and leaves. Descending there, I held aloft a lantern to illumine Full foliage that greenly hedged my way, Their varied tones and patterns gently hinting Of ancient gardeners pruning for today. My smooth-stoned path seemed not to wander, But curved intently toward a further place, But I, uncertain, stopped instead to ponder, And found the night had filled my heart with peace. So long wrapped up in stillness that I too Had finally been stilled, with lightened eyes, I turned to search the shadows for the flowers That silently perfumed my paradise.
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