Poetry Friday

For my footsore boys and girl enjoying long summer evenings...

No Bed
by Walter de la Mare

No bed! No bed! we shouted,
And wheeled our eyes from home
To where the green and golden woods
Cried, Come!

Wild sang the evening birds,
The sun-clouds shone in our eyes,
A silver snippet of moon hung low
In the skies.

We ran, we leapt, we sang,
We yodelled loud and shrill,
Chased Nobody through the valley and
Up the hill.

We laughed, we quarrelled, we drank
The cool sweet of the dew,
Beading on bud and leaf the dim
Woods through.

We stayed, we listened, we looked --
Now dark was on the prowl!
Too-whit-a-woo, from its hollow called
An owl...

O Sleep, at last to slide
Into eyes made drunk with light;
Call in thy footsore boys to harmless
Night!