One Sunday she came
T'was high noon, yet overcast
The sky a welcome gray
The air a dewy wet
A gentle shower, a misty spray
In my abode no soul but me
In blessed solitude -- free
The telly's off, the phone is silent
A dog plays across the garden
Suddenly she's here
My friend, my dear
How long has it been, since our last time together
Your arrival is perfect, so very clever
My dear solitude we are alone
Surrounded by a cool shower in monotone
Stay a while, though not forever
Stay with me in this perfect weather
Come soothe my mind till we conclude
Our rendezvous dear solitude
Keats
31 October 2010
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