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.
Walter de la Mare
Photo 'Loch Rannoch' by Alistair
This is the last 'Sunday Post' of 2012. Thank you for coming along on the journey. I hope you've enjoyed the poems as much as I've enjoyed finding them for you. I hope you'll be glad to hear that there's even more to come in 2013.
Cheers,
Photo 'Loch Rannoch' by Alistair
This is the last 'Sunday Post' of 2012. Thank you for coming along on the journey. I hope you've enjoyed the poems as much as I've enjoyed finding them for you. I hope you'll be glad to hear that there's even more to come in 2013.
Cheers,
2 comments:
Poetry isn't the first sort of reading/writing I reach for. This poem, however, has been a favorite since I discovered it years ago in my mother's old English lit book.
The words have all the mystery and imagery of a shimmery moonlit night.
Hullo MM. - I hope finding it here brought a smile and happy memories.
I was never a great poetry hand either, with the exception of Norman MacCaig, but these last few years seem to have changed that and it's one of my favourites now. I was given three books of poetry at Christmastime and am enjoying them right now in small doses. {Got to make good things last!}
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