Theres something special about a winter’s night when the moon is full – especially when its cloudy and everything has an eerie look about it. Its a look, just like in these photos I took last winter, and its times like this when I remember a particular poem written by Walter De La Mare called Silver.
We had to learn it at at school, we also had to learn it well enough to recite in class but until quite recently I could only remember the first two lines – honestly this aging process has its drawbacks lol – however thanks to our trusty friend G*oogle and the Internet, here it is – and I wonder why I’ve never searched for it before.
Slowly, silently, now the moon
Walks the night in her silver shoon;
This way, and that, she peers and sees
Silver fruit upon silver trees;
One by one the casements catch
Her beams beneath the silvery thatch;
Couched in his kennel, like a log,
With paws of silver sleeps the dog;
From their shadowy cote the white breast peep
Of doves in a silver-feathered sleep;
A harvest mouse goes scampering by,
With silver claws, and silver eye;
And moveless fish in the water gleam,
By silver reeds in a silver stream.
Walter De La Mare (1873 – 1956)
As I read this now it all comes back to me, standing there in the class room feeling quite confident, one of the few times I did so, reason being I knew every line. I never ever did well at written exams but sailed through anything oral.
That’s me – never have trouble talking lol