In lieu of trying to belong to any number of societies: Chesterton, Sherlock Holmes, the Inklings, and so on: I propose and establish one of my own. Don your intelligence cap at the door; dust off your logic and imagination; did you bring your inspiration and encouragement? We are shapers, my friends; lit lamps; light-bringers. Bring quotes; poetry should be uplifting and thoughtful, or witty and clever, (or both). Humor is encouraged; laughter is invited back. Pull up a chair. Anyone for tea?

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In the tree


"Sing a song of sixpence,
A pocketful of gold,
A treasure-trove in springtime,
Worthless in the cold.
Start from your doorstep,
Faces turned west,
Up the wooded hillside,
Over its crest.
Down among the giant stems,
Down across the glen,
To where the cattle feed and browse,
And uphill again.
Find a prelate in a pail,
A crown upon a tree,
Find the garden of a nymph,
And there find me."
 ~Spiderweb for Two: A Melendy Maze, Elizabeth Engright
I saw this out on one of my walks, and had to return with the camera for its picture...

1 comment:

Jodi said...

I'm so glad you went back for your camera. And the poem is just perfect.