For All Their Life's Compiling Poem by james watkin

For All Their Life's Compiling



For all their life's compiling
What rooms, for dust, can stow!
Wind-tight; but what for Time blows
Each draws a vain window.

By cubits, smaller, I house
More grandly a heart in
Of feelings, a lasting decor.
Of faith, hearths' undimming.

Tuesday, June 11, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: heart,house
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james watkin

james watkin

Melbourne Australia
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