Stempster Laureate

Sleep.   Sleep to dream:  To witness scenes  of the past  And the promise  of the future.  Sleep to heal:  Aching limbs and  wearied muscles  Strained and stretched from  a half-week's work.  Sleep to wake:  To a fresh start,  a woodland walk  in a new world  of birdsong.

How many feet have ambled - eyes homeward – through the avenue, Brushing tired legs through The flickering long grasses with boot-clad toes wading between the sea of bluebells.   How many fingers have grasped and leant down on the door handles: shoulders against the wood: pressing a weary body into the warm and welcoming sensation of home?   How many breaths have swept by in a sigh with whispered echoes of “I’m back home,” to an expectant house which replies, in its own way, “I know you may leave but don’t stay away.”