WeRead Powered by ReaderPub
Bread and Circuses cover

Bread and Circuses

Chapter 92: THE PETALS
Open in WeRead

Explore more books like this:

About This Book

A lyrical collection of short poems ranges from quiet country scenes and childhood memories to urban sketches and religious reflections. The poet renders streams, gardens, market sellers, and domestic interiors in close sensory detail while pairing everyday observation with moral and spiritual meditation. Animal vignettes and playful pieces for children sit alongside elegies, prayers, and ironic portraits of modern life, producing tones of humour, tenderness, and solemnity. Varied forms and concise portraits move between pastoral lanes, London streets, and intimate household moments while attending to time, sorrow, and faith.

THE PETALS

Yourself in bed (My lovely Drowsy-head) Your garments lie like petals shed
Upon the floor Whose carpet is strewn o’er With little things that late you wore.
For the morrow’s wear I fold them neat and fair And lay them on the nursery chair;
And round them lie Airs of the hours that die With all their stored-up fragrancy.
As a flower might Give out to the cool night The warmth it drank in day-long light
So wool and lawn From your soft skin withdrawn (Whereon they were assumed at dawn)
Breathe the spent mood, Lost act and attitude, Of the small sweetness they endued.
Ere all turn cold No garment that I hold But shakes a vision from its fold
Of little feet That vainly would be fleet, Tangled about with meadow-sweet,
And of bent knees When Betsey kneeling sees, In the parched hedge-row, strawberries.
Such things I see Folding your clothes, which be Weeds of the dead day’s comedy.
The while I pray Your part may be alway So simple and so good to play,
And do desire Your life may still respire Such sweetness as your cast attire.