Aldous Huxley

(1894-1963 / Godalming)

Panic - Poem by Aldous Huxley

The eyes of the portraits on the wall
Look at me, follow me,
Stare incessantly:
I take it their glance means nothing at all?
- Clearly, oh clearly! Nothing at all ...

Out in the gardens by the lake
The sleeping peacocks suddenly wake;
Out in the gardens, moonlit and forlorn,
Each of them sounds his mournful horn:
Shrill peals that waver and crack and break.
What can have made the peacocks wake?


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Poem Submitted: Monday, March 3, 2014

Poem Edited: Monday, March 3, 2014


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