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John Isbell 12-13-2017 05:26 AM

Morning Duty Sonnet
 
Morning Duty Sonnet


What needed doing has been done.
The pot is off the hob. The bread
is sliced. The bed is freshly made;
the floor is swept. The day’s begun.

Each day has duties. There are none
more pressing than the marmalade
the bread requires. Who is in bed,
when in the East, we see the sun

break the horizon? This is how
the morning speaks. There may be more
that noon and evening have in store,

but I am quite content for now.
Do what needs doing when it’s due;
those words are my advice to you.

13.xii.2017

RCL 12-17-2017 12:01 PM

Duck!
 
This dude took morning duties seriously!

G.M. Hopkins

The Windhover

To Christ Our Lord

I caught this morning morning’s minion, king-
dom of daylight’s dauphin, dapple-dawn-drawn Falcon, in his riding
Of the rolling level underneath him steady air, and striding
High there, how he rung upon the rein of a wimpling wing
In his ecstasy! then off, off forth on swing,
As a skate’s heel sweeps smooth on a bow-bend: the hurl and gliding
Rebuffed the big wind. My heart in hiding
Stirred for a bird,—the achieve of; the mastery of the thing!

Brute beauty and valour and act, oh, air, pride, plume, here
Buckle! AND the fire that breaks from thee then, a billion
Times told lovelier, more dangerous, O my chevalier!

No wonder of it: shéer plód makes plough down sillion
Shine, and blue-bleak embers, ah my dear,
Fall, gall themselves, and gash gold-vermillion.

John Isbell 12-17-2017 02:25 PM

That is a lovely poem.

John


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