A Prayer for my Son
by Hugh Walpole
My route home led to a long climb, The watery surface of the road, to the top of that sharp climb, glowed to the moon And wore the likeness of another stream that rang with a silent dip to join the stream that purred on the rampart. Everything else was motionless: no living creatures appeared either on the ground or in the air, and apart from the peaceful sound of flowing water, there was not a single sound - but lo! neotessana form...
