Poem II, Song of a Field at Night

Of The City Beautiful, She the long-betrothed
to One All-Loved Man –
I cannot speak in measure.
Her peace is all my pleasure.

Lumed in the final solar span
I saw her last, in countless tiny jewels clothed.
They were the waterdrops she lies amid,
for here, within an earthcloud, that man hid
her, The Beautiful, his treasure.

I think, and shudder, once a day
(since the loved man came and went)
of dragons, and that six-legged Serpent
who swore ago to shred her roasted flesh.
How her spires tremble, her high-hoven halls hush;
a song outsighs, “Oh Come, You All-Loved Man, and Stay…”

Shelter here, You Milky Lustrous Gem:
I am your Beloved’s land, O Lovely, I am true.
My clods are damp and ugly tubers sprout from them,
but every morning I aspire for you:
I breathe aloft a sheltering aerojewel cloud.
If he is yours, you are my reason to be proud.
For your sake, long ago, I was not left to burn.
Untroubled sleep: the All-Loved Man,
having full unscrolled an Ancient Plan,
will soon return.

2 thoughts on “Poem II, Song of a Field at Night

  1. It worked – I found you!

    You write very beautifully – not only the poetry, the prose as well. There’s a subtlety in your work – often an elegant turn of phrase. Reminds me a little of Plath or Woolf (the calmness) – but obviously thematically rather different from either.

    ‘Lumed’: I like that word – it’s very evocative. It puts one in mind of ‘lunar’ – which is reflected in ‘solar’, as well as in mind of ‘loom’ – as in how her garment of jewels would have been woven, perhaps.

    And I’ve just done an undergrad in English literature with a major in Creative Writing.

    I agree that delight in poetry can come before the understanding of meaning – but perhaps that’s because we tend to make up words that have no intrinsic meaning, other than what the context bestows. I think that most poetry should be read out loud (I also studied drama) – as that is the only way that you can truly enjoy the meaning through the sounds of the words. (I believe that so many words are so much more onomatopoeic when enunciated correctly than they are given credit for.) Poems are like a symphony where each word follows on like a note from a different musical instrument and only the great poets can have the violins in tune with the oboes whilst at the same time imparting meaning on a level that is so profound that our very cells vibrate with the ‘tune’ of it. One day, I hope to be able to write like that – maybe when I’m 70 šŸ™‚

    ‘The Soul’s Passage’ was actually inspired by Stephen Spender’s ‘I Think Continually of Those Who Were Truly Great’. You should read it if you haven’t – now THAT’s a beautiful piece of writing! – that is artistry, skill and genius.

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  2. I looked up Spender’s poem (and read it aloud – you are right, that is better.) It is indeed lovely, and I can see how it inspired “Soul’s Passage” – like seeing the same story from the other side. I like how in your poem, we see the pain of a spirit bound to earth, that is something very believable.

    Thanks for visiting and for your kind comments. I do envy you your formal studies of these delightful interrelated subjects, but I know that you will make good use of them. Re your comments about poetry and music: do you enjoy Sydney Lanier’s “Marshes of Glynn?” I believe he had similar theory…and that is one of my favorite poems.

    “Talk” to you again soon.

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