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Of All I've Seen Waiting To Be Discovered
A spring of buttercups, when was that now
I saw in green pastures a golden jersey cow
A river meandering swift-lashing and lush
Where blue tit nest on passing, fell hush.
When their shells scattered pieces of sky
Plucked treasured depths in a child's eye
When did I last see a fire poker-toadstool?
Its fiery globule head in a green whirlpool.
Radiant-light brims over a cherry-bark moth
Is he not both moth and tree - life's froth?
Of all I've seen waiting to be discovered
The tench bubbles breaking, I savored.
The nervous vole nosing silence ordinate!
Up-through the willow trees rooted garret.
These and other, things, I've remembered
A boy by the river I once wildly proffered.
poem
by
Mark Heathcote
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