Twas the Friday before Christmas

Good Morning, all! Usually I work out of my home; I seem to get more things accomplished when I don't have people calling me and asking me questions, but today, I must go into my office and train some new hires. So...not only is the poem early this morning, it is also small and to the point. I am going to introduce you, if you haven't been introduced already, to Jane Kenyon -- one of my absolute favorite poets.

Please enjoy, and have a great weekend.

Merry Christmas!

The Suitor by Jane Kenyon

We lie back to back. Curtains
lift and fall,
like the chest of someone sleeping.
Wind moves the leaves of the box elder;
they show their light undersides,
turning all at once
like a school of fish.
Suddenly I understand that I am happy.
For months this feeling
has been coming closer, stopping
for short visits, like a timid suitor.

~

Let Evening Come by Jane Kenyon

Let the light of late afternoon
shine through chinks in the barn, moving
up the bales as the sun moves down.

Let the cricket take up chafing
as a woman takes up her needles
and her yarn. Let evening come.

Let dew collect on the hoe abandoned
in long grass. Let the stars appear
and the moon disclose her silver horn.

Let the fox go back to its sandy den.
Let the wind die down. Let the shed
go black inside. Let evening come.

To the bottle in the ditch, to the scoop
in the oats, to air in the lung
let evening come.

Let it come, as it will, and don't
be afraid. God does not leave us
comfortless, so let evening come.