EJP

Poem Written In a Garden

 

the days were crowded there was no room

to write about the poetry of things

the sage green tablecloth that brought

the grass into the room

the pink rose in the honey-jar that made

the field a garden

(the rose meaning love or grace

or just a witness to a hand out a window plucking it

you gone: and the coffee pot

still bends at the knee slightly

like Rodin unguarded in his studio

like the beloved standing as if he wishes

to be entirely

seen

dictionaries piled up

give the room a mannish look

& those blue flowers, corn flowers

against the dark

panelling

dark as inscrutable sea walls in

shadow, as an altar by Bellini,

dark as the inside of a rabbit’s

ear

declared their poetry, I said

but un-

translatable to one who couldn’t

see

the face of the beloved

framing them.

 

Joanna Margaret Paul like love poems