Sunday night poetry.
Here's a crisp, stirring little poem which makes my insides flicker. I dedicate it to all those aloof, yet charming characters. I hope you like it, enjoy your Sunday night.
If You Came - Ruth Pitter
If you came to my secret glade,
Weary with heat,
I would set you down in the shade
I would wash your feet
If you came in the winter sad,
Wanting for bread,
I would give you the last that I had,
I would give you my bed.
But the place is hidden apart,
Like a nest by a brook,
And I will not show you my heart,
By a word, by a look.
This place is hidden apart
Like the nest of a bird:
And I will not show you my heart
By a look, by a word.
(images found via tumblr, click them to find out exactly where.)