Tuesday, 17 December 2019

Spellbound

Andrew Davidson


Spellbound 

 
 The night is darkening round me,
The wild winds coldly blow;
But a tyrant spell has bound me
And I cannot, cannot go.

The giant trees are bending
Their bare boughs weighed with snow.
And the storm is fast descending,
And yet I cannot go.

Clouds beyond clouds above me,
Wastes beyond wastes below;
But nothing dear can move me;
I will not, cannot go. 
 

  Emily Brontë 
 
Nothing dear can move me.” Does anyone else know that frozen feeling?
 That paralyzed state of being? That turned-into-stone sensation?

 




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