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Convalescence

When I am in the Orient once again,
And turn into the gay and squalid street,
One side in the shadow, one in vivid heat,
The thought of England, fresh beneath the rain,
Will rise unbidden as a gently pain.
The lonely hours of illness, as they beat
Crawling through days with slow laborious feet,
And I lay gazing through the leaded pane,
Idle, and listened to the swallows' cry
After the flitting insect swiftly caught,
Those all-too-leisured hours as they went by,
Stamped as their heritage upon my thought
The memory of a square of summer sky
Jagged by the gables of a Gothic court.
 
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Submitted on August 03, 2020

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Victoria Mary Sackville-West

Victoria Mary Sackville-West, Lady Nicolson, (9 March 1892 – 2 June 1962), usually known as Vita Sackville-West, was an English author and garden designer. more…

All Victoria Mary Sackville-West poems | Victoria Mary Sackville-West Books

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    "Convalescence" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2021. Web. 27 Jul 2021. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/56868/convalescence>.

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