Ben Wheldon
Batten down the hatches,
Turn lids to candlelight,
And shiver, till there is sleep.
Call memory from its must
And sigh at its many smiles.
The frown that settled the day
And tipped the balance over its heels.
Make peace with quiet,
The long-forgotten friend
Who one summer night
Was stood up for neon and glass.
Count the drops that April brings
To windows roofs and more,
Settle down in nook and cranny
And take heed of the noise.
Keep your eye to the lock.
Make peace with quiet,
Take to it and pray it doesn’t turn.
It stood by you at your bedside,
Take to it, now and with haste.
Batten down the hatches,
Turn lids to candlelight
And pine, till there comes the still,
With a basket full of sun
And a whisper of care.