Home

Poem By Wilfrid Wilson Gibson

So long had I travelled the lonely road,
Though, now and again, a wayfairing friend
Walked shoulder to shoulder, and lightened the load,
I often would think to myself as I strode,
No comrade will journey with you to the end.

And it seemed to me, as the days went past,
And I gossiped with cronies, or brooded alone,
By wayside fires, that my fortune was cast
To sojourn by other men's hearths to the last,
And never to come to my own hearthstone.

The lonely road no longer I roam.
We met, and were one in the heart's desire.
Together we came, through the wintry gloam,
To the little old house by the cross-ways, home;
And crossed the threshold, and kindled the fire.

Comments about Home

A loving expression of finding someone to share your life with
I have long enjoyed this poem. Wilfred Wilson Gibson's simple style of expressing the warmth and joy of finding love and coming 'Home' creates a thrill inside me.


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Other poems of WILSON GIBSON

The Stone

"And will you cut a stone for him,
To set above his head?
And will you cut a stone for him--
A stone for him?" she said.

The Blind Rower

And since he rowed his father home,
His hand has never touched an oar.
All day he wanders on the shore,
And hearkens to the swishing foam.

The Crane

The biggest crane on earth, it lifts
Two hundred ton more easily
Than I can lift my heavy head:
And when it swings, the whole world shifts,

The Dancing Seal

When we were building Skua Light--
The first men who had lived a night
Upon that deep-sea Isle--
As soon as chisel touched the stone,

The Messages

"I cannot quite remember.... There were five
Dropt dead beside me in the trench—and three
Whispered their dying messages to me...."