It has a quiet solemnity

It has a quiet solemnity, far from
The harsh reproof, a stolen hour to while
Away that none may know, begets a smile,
Subdues the pathos and the beating drum.
And as the world outside is cast adrift,
This self, that life has slowly sundered goes
To where it last knew peace and healing flows
Silently attending, to share its gift.
For even in the margins of the mind
Upon that turbulent treacherous sea,
With all its hopes and whispers of regret
Sings to its dreams and onward sailing blind
Finds the great swell and the winds, cold and free,
Guides the tiller to wander and forget.

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