northernwalker (
northernwalker) wrote2018-04-22 05:11 pm
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A bit of poetry, author unknown
"I like this room. It seems to bless,
With warm and gentle graciousness,
The life within. It lets me be
Myself. It sets my spirit free.
Some rooms I know are hard as stone,
And seem to cry, "Alone ! Alone !"
While others, rich as velvet is,
Seem full of restless presences.
But here these things my heart enfold:
Good books long-loved,—kind chairs and old,—
Warm sunshine where we need it most,—
Gay flowers in a friendly host.
And is it then so small a thing
To build a room where life shall sing
And love through years of quiet bliss?
Some day I'll have a room like this."
With warm and gentle graciousness,
The life within. It lets me be
Myself. It sets my spirit free.
Some rooms I know are hard as stone,
And seem to cry, "Alone ! Alone !"
While others, rich as velvet is,
Seem full of restless presences.
But here these things my heart enfold:
Good books long-loved,—kind chairs and old,—
Warm sunshine where we need it most,—
Gay flowers in a friendly host.
And is it then so small a thing
To build a room where life shall sing
And love through years of quiet bliss?
Some day I'll have a room like this."
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