WAYWARD HEART
By Edith Winifred Sholl Olstad Darke, Copyright 1986
©Edith W. Darke, Author
©Website by Joan Sholl Francis, 1999 - 2002. Email: joanfran@ptd.net
WAYWARD HEART
The night is come, and I should be in sleep,
But no, I have to entertain this heart -
That inner me that will not be confined
To boundaries of sight or circumstance;
My arms are lead, my thighs are logs of clay,
My eyes are grey as ashes in my brow
Awaiting sleep; but that elusive thing
Must fly away to find and apprehend
Some precious joy it could not see by day
For all the cumbersome realities;
I shrug the sleep, and beg instead to wait
To hungrily partake of that delight
That has been rescued once again to me . . . .
And find I'm glad I let my spirit fly,
For, truth be told, 'tis wiser far than I . . . . . .
Other poems written by Edith
Prayer
Mirror, Mirror
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