Do door-ways call confidingly to you? They do to me; There is the formal door-way straight and tall That opens on a narrow entrance-hall Impressively. There is the friendly door-way broad and white Welcoming one: Behind it I can always seem to see The very soul of hospitality And quiet fun. There is the door-way overgrown with vines— A lovely sight! A place to linger at the close of day And watch the soft clouds tuck the sun away Safe for the night. Ah, door-ways call out many things to me— That is their way: Behind their polished wood men's dreams come true, Old griefs grow trivial, hopes spring up anew From day to day. |