the keeper of the peace
The Keeper of the Peace
Behind high walls cypresses’ stand dignified and tall,
the iron-gate leading, in to a silent Paradise, is open
white marble and names in golden letters.
In here traffic noise dies down, a perfect spring day
comes to an end. I feel at ease here, have no regrets,
this place will one day be my home.
The gardener smokes a cigarette, fine Turkish blend,
tickles my nose, wish I could smoke too. With a big
key he locks up and wishes me safe journey.
Comments about this poem (the keeper of the peace by oskar hansen )
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