Rover's Rest

I would seek a still house
Blessed by tranquility;
Far from wind and wave carouse,
And the sea's urgency.
After wandering the earth,
After wastreling and war,
I would win a hushed hearth,
From the tempest, far.

From the vehemence of blood,
Where beyond meadow bars
Cows in night-time chew the cud,
And their eyes reflect the stars.
Where the owl goes woosh woosh,
Weavingly with ghost wings,
And above the hearth hush
One wee cricket sings, sings.

I would own a still house,
Sit beside a wood flame,
Hear the rustle of a mouse,
Beady-eyed, half tame.
From the hives of men apart,
With a robin on the sill,
I would home with husht heart,
Waiting one more mute still.