Ears in the turrets hear <br />Hands grumble on the door, <br />Eyes in the gables see <br />The fingers at the locks. <br />Shall I unbolt or stay <br />Alone till the day I die <br />Unseen by stranger-eyes <br />In this white house? <br />Hands, hold you poison or grapes? <br /> <br />Beyond this island bound <br />By a thin sea of flesh <br />And a bone coast, <br />The land lies out of sound <br />And the hills out of mind. <br />No birds or flying fish <br />Disturbs this island’s rest. <br /> <br />Ears in this island hear <br />The wind pass like a fire, <br />Eyes in this island see <br />Ships anchor off the bay. <br />Shall I run to the ships <br />With the wind in my hair, <br />Or stay till the day I die <br />And welcome no sailor? <br />Ships, hold you poison or grapes? <br /> <br />Hands grumble on the door, <br />Ships anchor off the bay, <br />Rain beats the sand and slates. <br />Shall I let in the stranger, <br />Shall I welcome the sailor, <br />Or stay till the day I die? <br /> <br />Hands of the stranger and holds of the ships, <br />Hold you poison or grapes?<br /><br />Dylan Thomas<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ears-in-the-turrets-hear/
