In a Carmelite Cloister

The roses in the inner court
Are still in fragrant bloom,
Despite the fact the days are short
And overhung with gloom.

The monks have left the cloister now;
They’ve gone to say their prayers,
And builders greet with half a bow
When meeting on the stairs.

And I am merely passing through;
I’ve got somewhere to go.
There’s such a lot of work to do
Before it starts to snow.

I hear the door behind me close,
But not before I’ve picked a rose.

Photo by Hartmut Tobies on Unsplash

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