Poem: A Lover's Recourse (reverberation)
retentissement / reverberation
The Christmas crowd is roaring round the circus ring.
The bear is tearing up the master of the ring.
A stone dropped in the water does not see the ripple.
A tower struck by lightning does not hear bells ring.
On an abbey’s lawn I learned to make a daisy chain
from serious young men stretched out in a scattered ring.
I often think I moved my life to the wrong country.
The call is not for me whenever the phones ring.
Tempted to switch these verses round like playing cards,
I do, sometimes, to hear the cash register ring.
One thing leads to another, as one day the next,
but there are nights that huddle in a silver ring.
You have big ears, Jee, which are losing their hearing
to the bloodthirsty circus cheering for the ring.
The Christmas crowd is roaring round the circus ring.
The bear is tearing up the master of the ring.
A stone dropped in the water does not see the ripple.
A tower struck by lightning does not hear bells ring.
On an abbey’s lawn I learned to make a daisy chain
from serious young men stretched out in a scattered ring.
I often think I moved my life to the wrong country.
The call is not for me whenever the phones ring.
Tempted to switch these verses round like playing cards,
I do, sometimes, to hear the cash register ring.
One thing leads to another, as one day the next,
but there are nights that huddle in a silver ring.
You have big ears, Jee, which are losing their hearing
to the bloodthirsty circus cheering for the ring.
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