! Washedaye's Metaphysikale. For Tara. Poem by Michael Shepherd
! Washedaye's Metaphysikale. For Tara.
Myne mynde to me a tumbledryere ysse,
where muste I watche my scrumpled, worn-oute thoughtes
seeke their redemptione in Hys watere’s grace;
thynkes-bubbles that do forme and burste in ayre,
thysse mynde’s so constant turmoyle withouten cease;
O maye I humble sitte and contemplayte
the roundel windowe of drye thoughte contained
and I, the watchere of myne turbulence,
Thy watchere aye; ’til time and change begone.
I KNEW you would rise to the implicit challenge! Full marks for Chaucerian ode to the washer-drier... and for chucking in the epistemological angle... doubly so for brightening my day and for missing NOTHING. Now I'll be doing the washing with a grin. :) t x
You've had a fair bit of work on laundry this last while Michael. Neatly rendered and not mangled! The power of technology. Fun piece.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/19/2024 1:51:12 AM # 1.0.0.1119
PS sorry sweetheart it was meant to be a 10 not a measly 9, slip of the mouse, too many soapsuds on fingers I guess... t x