Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, OCTAVES, by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN



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OCTAVES, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: I know a weaver and his wife
Last Line: I hesitate, the weaver smiles.
Alternate Author Name(s): Brown, T. E.
Subject(s): Weaving & Weavers


I KNOW a weaver and his wife,
And he is fair, and she is dark --
That breeds no strife
Within their peaceful ark.
The fairest man in all our town
Is he, light-flaxen, with a plus
Of marigold; her brown
Is brown of Stradivarius.

She keeps the humblest kind of shop,
Sells "goodies" to the little ones,
The knob, the drop
Acidulous; he runs
The timely threads, the boding tints
He summons in accordant row;
Babes buying peppermints
Observe the gath'ring purpose grow.

Hums the dull loom; I enter; pauses
The shopping, and the weaving. Straight
Her loud "O Lawses!"
Proclaim me designate
The erst beloved. I feel the dribble
Of fire volcanic in my soul
Long quenched -- Cumaean Sibyl?
Nay, but the Delphic aureole!

Wrinkled and wizen? Every line
Is furrowed with sweet longings; flames
Disused entwine
Our hearts; the once dear names,
The ties no fateful force can sunder,
Recur. Unthought occasion wiles
Our lips; the children wonder,
I hesitate, the weaver smiles.





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