Rainy Nights- By: Dorothy Parker

Who attend too well my pillow,

Gay the wanton rain begins;

Hide the limp and tearful willow.

Turn aside your eyes and ears,

Trail away your robes of sorrow,

You shall have my further years-

You shall walk with me tomorrow.

I am sister to the rain;

Fey and sudden and unholy,

Petulant at the windowpane,

Quickly lost, remembered slowly.

I have lived with shades, a shade;

I am hung with graveyard flowers.

Let me be tonight arrayed

In the silver of the showers.

Every fragile thing shall rust;

When another April passes

I may be a furry dust,

Sifting through the brittle grasses.

All sweet sins shall be forgot;

Who will live to tell their siring?

Hear me now, nor let me rot

Wistful still, and still aspiring.

Ghosts of dear temptations, heed;

I am frail, be you forgiving.

See you not that I have need

To be living with the living?

Sail, tonight, the Styx’s breast;

Glide among the dim processions

Of the exquisite unblest,

Spirits of my shared transgressions,

Roam with young Persephone.

Plucking poppies for your slumber . . .

With the morrow, there shall be

One more wraith among your number.






How far can a person go to fulfill the dream’s of someone else?

Read Dream’s Sake to find out. Click on the picture for reviews and free preview of the novel


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