The Sunday Posts 2012/Silver

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.


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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