Today's post is a beautiful poem guaranteed to calm and sooth. Sit down, relax and let the words smooth away the worries of modern life.
Silver by Walter de la Mare
Slowly, silently, now the moon
Walks the night in her silver shoon;
This way, and that, she peers, and sees
Silver fruit upon silver trees;
One by one the casements catch
Her beams beneath the silvery thatch;
Couched in his kennel, like a log,
With paws of silver sleeps the dog;
From their shadowy cote the white breasts peep
Of doves in silver feathered sleep
A harvest mouse goes scampering by,
With silver claws, and silver eye;
And moveless fish in the water gleam,
By silver reeds in a silver stream.
Walks the night in her silver shoon;
This way, and that, she peers, and sees
Silver fruit upon silver trees;
One by one the casements catch
Her beams beneath the silvery thatch;
Couched in his kennel, like a log,
With paws of silver sleeps the dog;
From their shadowy cote the white breasts peep
Of doves in silver feathered sleep
A harvest mouse goes scampering by,
With silver claws, and silver eye;
And moveless fish in the water gleam,
By silver reeds in a silver stream.
Andrew
2 comments:
This is marvellous. For several decades I've been reading at least SIX poems every single morning as part of my 'getting-in-tune-with-the-world' routine, yet, unfathomably, I don't recall having encountered this one before. It certainly deserves to be much better known. Thanks, Andrew.
Truly lovely Andrew.
Post a Comment