She Is My Home For My Lady Irene Poem by ivor or ivor.e hogg

Green; green is the riverside grass
The willows weeping by the stream.
The song birds sing pleasantly
and yet my heart, my heart is sad.
My beloved is not here and so
the house echoes with emptiness.
I wait longing for her return.
Loneliness oppresses me
although I know she will come back.
A week can seem eternity.
I stand by the casement and watch
Keeping vigil impatiently.
In the distance a cloud of dust.
May herald she is on her way
My spirits lift, my heart takes wing.
The house will come to life again
once she steps over the threshold
without her the house is just a house.
Her presence makes the house a home
Without my lover to share it
of what use is a mansion.

14-Mar-09
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