The Little Room by Opal Whiteley

I had never heard of Opal Whiteley before today. With my newly found interest in verses, I may be reading her more often. Here’s a poem I found to go with the swirlings inside my head:

The Little Room

In Man’s heart is a little room.

He has named it

Oblivion

 

And things are arranged along its wall

That he does not wish

To think about.

Every time he pushes something in there

He closes the door very tightly.

 

But in hours when he is weary,

In the hours that walk around some midnights

When high fires have burned

To a low flicker

Then the little door swings on its hinges.

And no thing

Will make it stay closed

All of the time.

 

When he is near death

All the Velvet-footed Wanderers in there

Join the throng around his bed,

“We will not die,” they whisper

To one another.

 

While Beauty waits with drawn lips,

And dry eyes.

But, there is heard

The patter of a little sad rain

In her heart’s garden

Where some little flower buds

That were once thinking of the sun

Will never open

Because man keeps a little room

Of oblivion in his soul.

2 thoughts on “The Little Room by Opal Whiteley

  1. Steve Williamson

    Opal Whiteley is an amazing writer and a fascinating person. I do the semi-official website on her from Oregon, in the Pacific Northwest of the United States. She visited Udaipur (sp) from about 1925-1927 and wrote a long article of her travels in the “Kingdom of the Sun”. We were doing a search today for names of OW’s poems and found your blog.

    best wishes,

    Steve Williamson

    Reply
    1. runa Post author

      Thank you for dropping by. I had never been particularly fond of poetry, however thats on a reversal now after I started reading through the poems of Rabindranath Tagore. Hence ocassionally, when I do come across verses that I like, I try to write then down here along with the source so that I can keep coming back to them and explore more. Thank you for sharing your website’s link, am bookmarking it.🙂

      Reply

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