When demons enter at its battered gates,
The heart must sometimes bear unwelcome guests.
It proffers meager fare on dingy plates,
Just prelude to a fitful night’s unrest.
Then on the morn the fiends—bereft of sleep,
Crick-necked, unstomached, eager for the trail—
Give up their lodgings, payment ever cheap,
And for an interim does peace prevail.
More worthy residents bear oft the slight
Of ruffians’ gruff offense and cross demands.
They soothe the host and gravely share his plight,
And faithfully outlast these rowdy bands.
Thus does the strong heart hold its treasures firm:
The purer tenants stay the truer term.
Paul – This is outlandish in its beauty. I can empathize with the subject whose mind won’t find peace for the marauders therein. Many a night like that we’ve probably all endured, and thankfully, our school days are a usually a fitting antidote. I have not imagined this plague could be described so artfully. I will enjoy reading it many times – Bravo.
You always express such nice things, Deb. Thanks! It encourages me to write more.
Why do our hearts even admit those unwelcome guests? But they do. Your words do justice to the inner turmoil that, I have a feeling, beats up the strong of heart more than the weak.
Unwelcome guests with their meager fare and cross demands have plagued us all at times. This is just perfect in its description of those demons.
I suspect I’ll have unpleasant visitors tonight as we start the final leg of our trip tomorrow morning.