Ode on a Door, for Trevor, who has one

My office, standing fair
Without a door, is not quite "there"
It lacks a finish, you'd agree
Absent some perfect symmetry
And yet my printer you could take,
Thermo-hygrometer I'd forsake,
My blotter, where my doodles live,
My yellow folders, I would give
To have a door that I could close,
Keep out the extra curious nose,
Block my neighbor's well meant fan,
What favor seekers I could ban
Then all I'd need for perfect bliss
Some walls to hold the door up with

Renovation song in progress ps thank you Blake and Frost

"There is a Moment in each Day that Satan cannot find
Nor can his Watch Fiends find it, but the Industrious find
This Moment & it multiply, & when it once is found
It Renovates every Moment of the Day if rightly placed"

MILTON 35:42-45


The hills are looking a lot like November
Their October glory is stripped by the rains
But in a small valley a bright splash of color
Some trees that are clinging to Autumn's remains

And it's all that I need for a moment of pleasure
All that I need for a moment's delight
A bright splash of color in a place unexpected
Changes the instant, renovates, and makes right

The sounds of the city are gathered around us
Man and machines their cacophonies race
But in a brief quiet the sigh of a baby
as she falls asleep in her father's embrace

And it's all that I need for a moment of pleasure
All that I need for a moment's delight
The sigh of a baby in a place unexpected
Changes the instant, renovates, and makes right



















Copyright © 2008 Mary-Elizabeth Bean