“Come home, come home!”
They call to me.
But I have wandered far too long
To give up being free.
“Return, O child,
And sit at home!
Return to the arms
Of our glad company!”
But I am used to being alone
And find I’m sufficient for me.
What need have I of mortal men
When I have found the mystic glen?
Why venture where the mad crowds dwell
When I have found the hidden dell?
“Return! Come home!”
They call to me,
But their voices grow so dim.
I do not heed, for I wander on,
Far from the haunts of men.
Love it! :)
ReplyDeletePretty! I feel true emotion in this. Well thought up.
ReplyDeleteOoooh I like this one.
ReplyDelete"The haunts of men" is very well written. It could point to the final transformation of the isolated person, because now the "mystic glen" in his/her mind is reality, and the world of "men," so to speak, has now become what is ghostly or 'unreal.' Nicely done.
You're going to roll your eyes; it took me a second to get what you meant because I thought you were saying reality is the "mystic glen", not that he considers the glen itself reality.
DeleteI kind of pictured it more as someone discovering the English moors, or some other beautiful barren landscape, and becoming so enraptured as to shun mankind because he has found his own sanctuary. But now that you've said that, I like your version better. (It makes me sound cleverer ;) )
WOW! Can't say I understand a word of the last 2 comments. I liked the poem though:)
ReplyDeleteEmma of Tin Lane