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Stormy was the night; the wind blew
Through the whole afternoon it rose
Violent was the rain; its force grew
Echoes of a million hammer blows
Howling now loud; then hissing low
Curtains set in motion by a hand unseen
Lightning flashing bright; or a distant glow
Disturbs the mind of the most serene
With senses in awe; Catherine listened
Aware in the hall of a gathering gloom
On the eye of the tempest; streams glistened
But she went steadfast to her room
In a sudden angry gust; a door slammed
An ancient corner wept at the wind’s rage
Grim the reflections; souls of the damned?
Was she in the abbey from a gothic page?
Chains and deep dungeon; An alter laid
A northerly tower of black or white
She’s a heroine in peril? an assassin’s blade?
Or a drunken gallant in the night?
Not with candle on dresser; flame a-play
A large open hearth with a blaze to cheer
The sweetest dear hostess; but a door away
The sleep of the righteous is without fear
Back to Keith Logan's NA Poems
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Copyright © 2000 by Keith Logan. All Rights Reserved.

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