It's that time of the week. I'm spending Sunday afternoon, in a dimly lit room reflecting and thinking. So, take it easy and take some time. Enjoy this poem from Dylan Thomas's The Map of Love (1939, a collection of short stories and poems.) I love the broody, haunting nature of this poem. Dylan is one of my favourites, expect more.
Love in the Asylum
A stranger has come
To share my room in the house not right in the head,
A girl mad as birds
Bolting the night of the door with her arm her plume.
Strait in the mazed bed
She deludes the heaven-proof house with entering clouds
Yet she deludes with walking the nightmarish room,
At large as the dead,
Or rides the imagined oceans of the male wards.
She has come possessed
Who admits the delusive light through the bouncing wall,
Possessed by the skies
She sleeps in the narrow trough yet she walks the dust
Yet raves at her will
On the madhouse boards worn thin by my walking tears.
And taken by light in her arms at long and dear last
I may without fail
Suffer the first vision that set fire to the stars.
(I can't credit the photos, as I don't know who the photographers are.. but.. would love to know, if you have any information...)