My hermitage lies deep in a wood
at the end of a winding path.
It has a bed, table and an old chair
I live here without clutter or care.
In the evening I gather brushwood
light the fire and warm my toes.
At night I watch the stars twinkling
through the tall pines.
And as I fall asleep I pray for those
who suffer and those in need.
reread a poem by a talented poet who has been gone for so long---yet her poetry is still here for us to settle down with and learn from
Such quiet elegance! You have written a portrait of a place we can see and yearn to visit... that takes talent to do that so seamlessly, so beautifully. a heaven full of tens would not express the admiration I have for this poem.
This is a beautiful poem that touches on the spirit of your soul. Such kindness and warmth.
A beautiful poem about living simply in solitude. You are a true artist, Norah, needing few brushstrokes to create depths of feeling. Great work
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
"I pray for those who suffer and those in need"