''A Few Quiet Hours''
A few quiet hours of solitude, detached from life by choice,
Apart and withdrawn from humanity - the world;
Solitude, tranquility - O, sweet the peace and quiet,
In this self-appointed quarantine, this silent retreat.
I savour the stillness, the distant sounds of traffic and sirens,
A wind-mobile tinkling, the birds twittering, unseen;
O, I am not forsaken with loneliness, the opposite be true,
This is a state of alone on my journey in discovery.
Like the solitude of a lighthouse keeper, by choice - silence,
O, splendid isolation, seclusion, aloneness, remoteness;
I love this time where I can find my soul and my words,
Cut-off from worldly matters and in a state of alone.
Did you know, one can be in solitude even in a busy crowd,
O, yes - in a used bookstore amongst tattered books;
At the library engrossed in the rows and rows of knowledge,
The art gallery - lost in beauty - of lovely flowers.
And of course, lost in the famous poets and artists of the past,
As I am today - in my detachment and reclusion;
In a quest of reading, learning, writing poetry and solitude,
O, sweet the breeze blowing and a little cat purring.
_____________________________
May 27, 2015
Poetry/Verse/"A Few Quiet Hours"
Copyright Protected, ID 05-677-503-27
All Rights Reserved, 2015, Constance La France
Submitted into the Standard contest, Late April
sponsor, Brian Strand Judged 2015
Third Place
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2015
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