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Remembrance

Rating: 3.6

When the loud day for men who sow and reap
Grows still, and on the silence of the town
The unsubstantial veils of night and sleep,
The meed of the day's labour, settle down,
Then for me in the stillness of the night
The wasting, watchful hours drag on their course,
And in the idle darkness comes the bite
Of all the burning serpents of remorse;
Dreams seethe; and fretful infelicities
Are swarming in my over-burdened soul,

And Memory before my wakeful eyes
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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Kayode Are 03 June 2017

Thoughtful and provoking acceptance of the plight of one who toils without gain.

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