Aug 272011
 

The climbing rose upon the tree
Is symbol enough for me;
That chaliced eye weeping blood,
Proponent of diviner love.
All the glory my old age needs
A fisher-girl provides.

What care I if angels, angels shove?
Love's a lump of sodden clay.
I am content with what I can catch
And let the others pass.
Old hearts and broken kettles sigh,
Love's a sodden lump of clay.

What care I for the spite of time
That makes the humble bite their tongues
Or loftier spirits trudge
Through burning lime?
The climbing rose upon the tree
Is symbol enough for me.

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