Sometimes

Sometimes at nights Or when the morning is still wearing her negligee A gossamer garment glinting with light A vulnerable profile, tender and innocent I stand apart and far away And from my Verandah survey contour and lay And could almost believe again This was the same virgin place of my school days And that death by violence is not known And dreams do not turn brown in the sun And dry at foot of the chairs basking in privacy Sometimes I look abroad And wonder what we did with liberty And sometimes I long For the trees that were the only things here When the robins whispered sweetly in my ears.