How often I’ve made haste across that lawn—
Or sat upon it, working in the sun—
Or loitered with such friends in conversation
There that I could while all day away,
So pleasant, joyful was their company.
But I have never danced upon that lawn;
In all the gladsome hours that I have passed
Upon that verdant, gently rising hill,
Not one was spent, under the pleasant sky,
With happy music and the steps of old.
I wrote this poem this week, beginning when I was outside working on our lawn. I was thinking of the Commons Lawn at my alma mater (which also partly inspired my Untitled Metaphor #6), and also of the “Dancing Lawn” in Prince Caspian, which prompted the poem—though none of that is essential to its meaning.
As always, I earnestly welcome your comments, suggestions, questions, critique, or other feedback about this or any other part of my work. (In other words, if you liked this poem, or you didn’t like it, or it made you think of something, or … please leave a comment to let me know.) If you liked this, you can follow this blog, which includes one of my poems every Friday, or read other poems I’ve written here on my blog (starting with yesterday’s archive installment, since the full archive is by now, at well over a hundred poems, somewhat daunting); I’d especially like to know which poems you think are my best.
- “Spring” (shinecycle.wordpress.com)
- Poetry Archive: Volume III Issue 4 (shinecycle.wordpress.com)
- “Falling Fire” (shinecycle.wordpress.com)