What Magic is Thine?

When I was a 7-year-old kid, I used to frequently furtively open my favorite sister's ladies' magazines from England. I didn't go for the saucy articles or glossy glamorous pictures of course being that young... I went for the Patience Worth poetic page. This was actually a small framed poem of hers that was inserted on a weekly basis in the magazine.

Thankfully, some of these poems were fortunately cut out by me later at an older age when I came across a few of my sister's cast away magazines.

Here is one of my Patience Worth-the woman who contacted the dead to write heart-warming poems- favorites. It is dedicated to all buddies everywhere, especially to all of you great readers who come by to pay a visit. Thank you for a memorable year and even though this blog is less than half a year old, I appreciate your support, views and comments.

May we have many more years ahead together ... and may we all live in interesting times (This is the ancient Chinese insult to our enemies actually-haha)!

What Magic is Thine

What magic is thine, beloved?
Lo, had the day become a worn thing
And the vessels of office trinkets
Of memory. What magic is thine?
Beneath the spell of thy voice have I
Walked upon the sands of morning
Which embrace Day, and found new toys
Awaiting me, new music in the waters,
New songs in the air, new peace
In the quietude, new simplicity
In confusion. Each morrow is exultant
And I expectant. I am comrade
With all days, no longer woeful
O'er yesterdays or fretful o'er tomorrows
Save in anticipation of new joys!

What magic is thine, beloved?
It is as though I had come fresh
From the conflict with bloody head,
With bruised hands and heavy feet,
With mine armour oppressing me---
It is as though I had come to thy side,
And felt thy gentle touch upon my brow,
Watched thy slender hands unthong
My coat of mail, and weary,
Dropped my head upon thy breast, secure
In the serenity of thy voice.