The Sanctuary

Corridors that never end

And creatures of my dreams

That rise up and dance with

Me; people – simply painted –

Who come alive and walk

Beside me.

I gaze out of the window -

There are always four – and

Out of the first I see Spring,

Crisp and pure; the second

Shows me Summer with sun

And a certain artificial warmth;

The third shows me a golden

Autumn with leaves of copper

Crisp; but the last shows me

A frozen Winter.

Being thus frighted, I look around

Me and then I whisper a word and

Finally, I sleep.

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