.
Dear Little Bog-Face,
Why are you so cold?
And why do you lie with your eyes shut? --
You are not very old.
I am a Child of this World,
And a Child of Grace,
And Mother, I shall be glad when it is over,
I am Bog-Face.
Bog-Face: from The Collected Poems of Stevie Smith
Christmas cactus in bloom (Zygocactus truncatus): photo by Nayana Sondi, 2006
Florence Margaret ("Stevie") Smith: photo by Jorge Lewinski, 1966 (National Portrait Gallery, London)
Christmas cactus in bloom (Zygocactus truncatus): photo by Nayana Sondi, 2006
Florence Margaret ("Stevie") Smith: photo by Jorge Lewinski, 1966 (National Portrait Gallery, London)
3 comments:
Of course, Tom,
only you would think of
(Me, Again)
Stevie Smith for today!
And no bog-face with stunning
dripping Christmas cactus
When I leave milk & cookies tonight for Santa, I'll also be leaving this Stevie stood up at the milk glass
the fact that it's a poem
still accentuates the positive
you can see the glimmer dots
behind the bog face
tyger tyger burning bright
they say
Prehistoric visage of alleged redeemer, dug up from peat bog -- frigid manger, mistaken identity -- blinks and says, Who me?
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