You Sit And Watch Me Dream

I sweep up all the leaves
they look up at me
like dried flat worms
curved in elliptical resignation

They cover the autumn grass
like an armada of small shallow boats
savaged by a storm
With eyes closed I bend
and salvage just one

I feel the rust on my fingers
I raise its twisted battered prow
I feel all it's journeys
all the depths of the oceans
beneath its broken narrow keel

Against the wall
at the end of the garden
you sit watching my dreams
your eyes a map of all emotions
of all latitudes
of the endless lament of sirens
of all the golden meridians
your lips open like a perfect rose

by For Matilde

Comments (55)

'I long for scenes where man has never trod Pure genius
which meter is this poem? ?
The human life destined to live with others in this world often feels isolated and disillusioned. A great writing.
That poems like this one, exist, make life more bearable.
John Clare is one of greatest poets of the 18th and 19th century (and undoubtedly one of the best British poets) and it makes me extremely angry when he is classed as a peasant poet, as if to belittle his reputation. His recording of the natural world, as he saw it at first hand, is far superior to anything Wordsworth or any of his ilk could produce. If nothing else his writing should be viewed as great historical and social pieces of work.
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