LITTLE WHITE GATE
Reading edition
Little painted, wooden gate, Swinging in and out, Crickets chirping in the grass, Honey-bees about; Hollyhocks and marigolds Laughing in the sun, Where quiet pools of shadows Ripple, one by one; Friendly glow of lamplight Across the window sill. From the dark a plaintive voice Calling “Whippoor-will.” Moonlight trailing up the path Draperies of foam, Spell for me contentment, And the peace of home.