Sunday Kipling

Shame on me. It's nearly midnight here and no Kipling. In my defense we got back from a wedding in Arizona late last night and we've been pretty much wiped out today. My favorite nephew, hereinafter referred to as AFNephew, got married to a lovely young woman Saturday afternoon. He was resplendent in his dress blues. You Air Force folks would have been proud. I know I was. They're bound for his duty station in Japan as soon as they can get her all signed in. Bureaucracy.

Tomorrow we start reconstruction on the remodel. I'm dreading cutting into the slab for the rough in plumbing. I may hire that out depending on how I'm feeling. We'll see.

 I hope this day found you all well and happy. The days are growing ever shorter and the nights colder. Turn up the heat, snuggle into a warm comforter and sip on something that makes the blood hot.

Six

The City of Sleep

("The Brushwood Boy" -- The Day's Work)


Over the edge of the purple down,
  Where the single lamplight gleams,
Know ye the road to the Merciful Town
  That is hard by the Sea of Dreams --
Where the poor may lay their wrongs away,
  And the sick may forget to weep?
But we -- pity us! Oh, pity us!
  We wakeful; ah, pity us! --
We must go back with Policeman Day --
  Back from the City of Sleep!

Weary they turn from the scroll and crown,
  Fetter and prayer and plough --
They that go up to the Merciful Town,
  For her gates are closing now.
It is their right in the Baths of Night
  Body and soul to steep,
But we -- pity us! ah, pity us!
  We wakeful; ah, pity us! --
We must go back with Policeman Day --
  Back from the City of Sleep!

Over the edge of the purple down,
  Ere the tender  dreams begin,
Look -- we may look -- at the Merciful Town,
  But we may not enter in!
Outcasts all, from her guarded wall
  Back to our watch we creep:
We -- pity us! ah, pity us!
  We wakeful; ah, pity us! --
We that go back with Policeman Day --
  Back from the City of Sleep!