Deserted
Into the ancient courtyard only come
The winds to scatter swirls of blossom petals
About the bronzen phoenix, and great daws
To build untidy nests in evergreens.
A swaggering magpie perches on the eaves
Among the broken orange-tinted tiles.
The gates are bolted—these alone come near,
Unless one counts the antiquarian moss
Creeping to treasure the last faint imprint
Of royal feet upon the worn flag-stones.
The winds to scatter swirls of blossom petals
About the bronzen phoenix, and great daws
To build untidy nests in evergreens.
A swaggering magpie perches on the eaves
Among the broken orange-tinted tiles.
The gates are bolted—these alone come near,
Unless one counts the antiquarian moss
Creeping to treasure the last faint imprint
Of royal feet upon the worn flag-stones.