“So, I’ll continue to continue to pretend…”
CANTERBURY BELLS
(GOOD FRIDAY)
Campanula may bow; they dare not bend,
Though shafts of sun seem ever more remote.
I do not think the rain will ever end.
You breed prosodic lilacs and pretend:
“The drocts of April / pairst us to the rote;
Campanula may bow / they dare not bend,”
But poems (even this one) condescend;
You still need your umbrella and your coat.
I do not think the rain will ever end.
“I’ll drown my books!” you cry. (Yes: God forfend
Your graveside vigil lack some pithy quote.)
“Campanula may bow; they dare not bend—”
It comes out wrong. But what did you intend?
You plucked your eyes for pearls, and dimly wrote:
“I do not think the reign will ever end.”
Oremus: What can sodden bells portend
When even you misdoubt one hopeful note?
Campanula may bow; they dare not bend.
I do not think the rain will ever end.
(For all the entries in this series, hit the “looking up” tab, or read the gargoyle FAQ.)
Friday, April 22, 2011, at 12:16 am
“You plucked your eyes for pearls…”
That line is fabulous!
As is the whole poem.
Love it!
Thursday, April 28, 2011, at 2:51 am
I just happened by here, and was pleasantly astonished, as I always am, to discover someone alive today writing poetry I enjoy. Most excellent, good sir! Long may you continue this project.