long streets, yet strait of the medieval town <br />the dawn has climbed the village hill <br />ten minutes ago and more <br />the cock has crowed before <br />and with him all the hens are risen: <br /> <br />the running of dogs <br />unwholesome urine and smells <br />and liquids along the village streets <br />the opening of the doors <br />the creaking of open casements <br />the first shouts of the green-vendors <br />the passing bell of the sexton <br />the church-bells ringing for first mass <br />it’s five in the morning quite! <br /> <br />They say-they say they found a child <br />In the window of the small nunnery <br />Who the mother? Who the father? <br />The village gossipers are fresh this morn <br />And the new-born gives its first cries to-day <br />As sisters admire it in the small nunnery. <br />Now it’s more than five, it’s near to six this morn! <br /> <br />Long streets, yet strait of the medieval town <br />I want to capture your heart <br />That heart I want so much <br />And once captured it <br />I will unlock it in my treasure-chest <br />And thus confined will not go: <br /> <br />But every morn <br />Long streets, yet strait of the medieval town <br />I will dream of you.<br /><br />Emmanuel George Cefai<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/long-streets-yet-strait-of-the-medieval-town/
