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Below is the poem entitled A LATE VISITOR which was written by poet daver austin. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.

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Sleepless, he’d taken seat
In an overstuffed chair

Lamp not lit, nor diversion sought,
Just sitting there

Worrying on about problems of day
Listening for answers night wouldn’t say


I hear wheels of a horse drawn coach
In London Town fog
     “Bring it round, you merry coachman
     Bring it round!”
Off the avenue where I stand
Hat in clouds, shoes on the ground 
The in between a fright and swimming round
Hear?    between those dock, dock sounds
My shouting voice?    
     “Bring it round, you cocksure coachman
     Bring it round!”


All’s quiet
Snow, I’m sure, will drift to ten feet
Outside the window – or more

Old downy dog’s acurl in a corner
When I’m off he’ll choose the rocker

The feeling’s like one preceding
A mystic midnight meeting 
Of spider and fly
Or mice in a breadbox, eating

All’s quiet    all’s well
And the old clock’s ticking…ticking… ticking… 

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  1. Date: 6/2/2012 2:45:00 AM
    That's it Daver.." This is too reminds me too much of to many winters!! So I shall book to sunnier climes..)

  1. Date: 5/26/2012 9:15:00 AM
    Quite a vintage story here well told. Huggs TLee

  1. Date: 5/25/2012 5:45:00 AM
    An amazing write, Daver! It almost feels like an astral voyage where time and place are of no consequence. Small details are the greater part of the whole! Best wishes, Love, Mikki

  1. Date: 5/21/2012 9:51:00 PM
    it sounds very quaint, like something from Charles Dickens' time!! Enjoyed this!

  1. Date: 5/21/2012 7:53:00 AM
    Sounds like an evening of peace and comfort after the outside activity calms down. The dog and other critters give me a feeling of contentment as I sit there too. Just wondering, do we have a fire? Love, Elizabeth

  1. Date: 5/19/2012 5:13:00 PM
    Daver, you are a brilliant this alot, very well written. - oxox Anne-Lise

  1. Date: 5/19/2012 1:43:00 PM
    These are all very well written, Daver. My favorite is the second one. It made me think of the way Emily Dickinson had the coachman "Death" come to carry her home in "Because I Could Not Stop for Death." Very cool the way you keep the ticking going at the end of the third verse. How I wish I could by "acurl" in the corner with tht old downy dog. I LOVE SNOW. Love, carolyn