Hear the slamming of the doors
What a tale their terror tells
How they clang, and clash, and roar!
What a horror they outpour
On the bosom of the palpitating air!
Yet the ear it fully knows,
By the twanging,
And the clanging,
How the danger ebbs and flows
From the slamming of the doors,
The doors, doors, doors, doors.
(My apologies to Edgar Allen Poe)
An almost full moon reflected off a pond hugged by beds of flowers in blues, yellows and violets of various heights. In the center, a fountain trickled dow...