The Wall

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“What a dear old wall that is that runs along by the river there! I never pass it without feeling better for the sight of it. Such a mellow, bright, sweet old wall; what a charming picture it would make, with the lichen creeping here, and the moss growing there, a shy young vine peeping over the top at this spot, to see what is going on upon the busy river, and the sober old ivy clustering a little farther down! There are fifty shades and tints and hues in every ten yards of that old wall. . . . It looks so peaceful and so quiet, and it is such a dear old place to ramble round in the early morning before many people are about.” Jerome K. Jerome, “Three Men In A Boat (To Say Nothing of the Dog)” Ch. 6 (1889)

Poem, Rewritten

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Now, the day is over. 

Night has drawn quite nigh. 

Shadows of the evening fill the moonglow sky.

Now, with darkness gathered, stars delight to peek.

Birds and beasts and flowers,

shhhh, are fast asleep. 

(Rewritten lyrics to a bedtime song)

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