William Allingham

(19 March 1824 – 18 November 1889 / Donegal / Ireland)

Half-waking


I thought it was the little bed
I slept in long ago;
A straight white curtain at the head,
And two smooth knobs below.
I thought I saw the nursery fire,
And in a chair well-known
My mother sat, and did not tire
With reading all alone.
If I should make the slightest sound
To show that I'm awake,
She'd rise, and lap the blankets round,
My pillow softly shake;
Kiss me, and turn my face to see
The shadows on the wall,
And then sing Rousseau's Dream to me,
Till fast asleep I fall.
But this is not my little bed;
That time is far away;
With strangers now I live instead,
From dreary day to day.

Submitted: Tuesday, December 31, 2002

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read poems about / on: kiss, mother, dream, fire, alone, time, rose, sleep

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Half-waking by William Allingham )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. Smell the Flowers, Joseph Narusiewicz
  2. Low Performances, Lawrence S. Pertillar
  3. Trivial Pursuits, Lawrence S. Pertillar
  4. "These doodles help me...", Jeff Gangwer
  5. "In a manner of speaking...", Jeff Gangwer
  6. "Can I just...? ", Jeff Gangwer
  7. SLEEPING NIGHT, Egbe Chris
  8. Doorways / Points of Access, Jeff Gangwer
  9. "...on the hook", Jeff Gangwer
  10. Pioneers and Parade Floats, Jeff Gangwer

Poem of the Day

poet Edmund Spenser

Of this worlds theatre in which we stay,
My love like the spectator ydly sits
Beholding me that all the pageants play,
Disguysing diversly my troubled wits.
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]