From deep within a faintest knock I hear,
familiar and unknown a bang so sweet,
have we met yet it is not quite so clear,
soft hand that raps a slightly different beat.
Lost perhaps, my castle is the farthest out,
a weary traveler in wind, fog, or rain,
It is, this intrusion, directions about,
for map a course a road that meets the main.
Perhaps it best I open not the gate,
from tired travels she might seek night’s stay,
In times past guests played my welcome late,
and some too fast have hastened off next day.
Familiar still I know this bangs about
it is my heart which yearns for letting out.