MA (March 27,1951 / India)

An Old Woman Of The Roads

O, to have a little house!
To own the hearth and stool and all!
The heaped up sods against the fire,
The pile of turf against the wall!

To have a clock with weights and chains
And pendulum swinging up and down!
A dresser filled with shining delph,
Speckled and white and blue and brown!

I could be busy all the day
Clearing and sweeping hearth and floor,
And fixing on their shelf again
My white and blue and speckled store!

I could be quiet there at night
Beside the fire and by myself,
Sure of a bed and loth to leave
The ticking clock and the shining delph!

Och! but I'm weary of mist and dark,
And roads where there's never a house nor bush,
And tired I am of bog and road,
And the crying wind and the lonesome hush!

And I am praying to God on high,
And I am praying Him night and day,
For a little house - a house of my own
Out of the wind's and the rain's way.

User Rating: 2,9 / 5 ( 73 votes ) 9

Comments (9)

This is a really beautiful poem, I was there with you drinking in the scene. I love the early mornings, sun rising evaporating those struggling streaky pink and greywhite clouds. That time before the world wakes up, its silence is beautiful. Thank you
its real.... what the mind imagen are true...... maybe in the past life or it will be coming soon...i like your poem... who tells that dreams are not vane, but a thing to be wish for... thanky you.... your great
this the first poem I'm reading this morning, with my coffee and my Helen-made fruit cake and it all goes so well with this gorgeous morning made all the more glorious by your enchanting, soft, dreamy poem that soaks my heart with great joy and makes me shout aloud that this world is indeed good. Give us more flowers, Mamta that we may inhale beauty and freshness and joy.
Beautiful! ! ! lo Kashmir is unfolded --dreaming-Iam actually there +++++10 as always anjali
Lively descriptions....I felt I was there......10
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