Jane Austen dwells
within these walls; toned once
impassive halls of dread - lost of heart
feared all love shed. She
lit a lantern near
the stair - where I had kept her
hidden there, and with kindest word of discipline, she begged my heart
to let her in, to take
the jacket from the book, its
offering of leather grey, and
read the pages
filled with a time - warmer, gentler than I
here could find, much kinder than I now
could find ,and as
the binding spoke to me, soft engraved with grace so rare
then to my heart with each word
read - she took her step from room
to room to place her rest
nearest my bed - and with lantern lit
throughout the night
she held true to promise with break of day...
reciting love throughout
these halls... as, Jane Austen now dwells
within these walls
bkmackenzie
copyrighted 2011
Posted for One Shot Wednesday at One Stop Poetry: Where Poets, Writers and Artists meet....
