Where Tennyson heard that Byron was dead
Onwards & upwards, the next bit is downhill
Seems an odd thing to say, but it was
The first day of the summer
The corn was high or would be later in the year
Feared of shame and sensationOdd situations, undulations less than endless
Curves of a woman’s thigh into the near distance
Into the far away fears
Steered by sunlight & hawthorn blossom
Over worked up fields of clay & sand
Ploughed, raked, drilled; the pasture, the meadowThe fair I swear maiden laid down in the soft grass
Captured
Enraptured before the moon was full
Beneath the stature of past statues
Beside triptychs of graver truths
The pamphlet EmbroideredCadillac from which this poem is taken is available at the itunes store for only 99 pence, click here to be connected
