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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
ET SA PAUVRE CHAIR, by ALEC BROCK STEVENSON
First Line: The moonlight filled them both with sundry glamors
Last Line: And her poor flesh awake, adoring him.
First Line: The moonlight filled them both with sundry glamors
Last Line: And her poor flesh awake, adoring him.
The moonlight filled them both with sundry glamors,
Filtered silver in between white birches,
Blood whispered, like the stream, with urgent clamors,
And bells were struck that never rang in churches.
She would not when he wished, and so the scene
Progressed as aimless as the wind-blown sands:
He bit a box-bush leaflet tart and green
She disciplined a rosebud with white hands.
When he had soothed this war to some accord
What then remained of what was quick or breathless?
What came of scorn? What of the bitten word?
What of the wings, the flight they two called deathless?
The breaking of a smile when day was dim,
And her poor flesh awake, adoring him.
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