Oct 2016
had read some of his poems
but never stood at his statue
a local boy become a famous lad
revered crafter of a shropshire lad
now here i was with my digital camera
knowing full well it was no chimera
being here at the shrine of a wordsmith
whose professorial gaze is wide and sweeping
i tell you straight that for joy my heart is weeping
you will ask if i am a friend of narcissus
that mythical lad with conceit like a colossus
for after i've gone click! click!
i see my image embedded in the shiny black marble
and i feel like a visiting poet embraced by another in stone
but never stood at his statue
a local boy become a famous lad
revered crafter of a shropshire lad
now here i was with my digital camera
knowing full well it was no chimera
being here at the shrine of a wordsmith
whose professorial gaze is wide and sweeping
i tell you straight that for joy my heart is weeping
you will ask if i am a friend of narcissus
that mythical lad with conceit like a colossus
for after i've gone click! click!
i see my image embedded in the shiny black marble
and i feel like a visiting poet embraced by another in stone
yesterday i was walking along the main street of bromsgrove with my wife, my grandson and our son-in-law. with a plastic mug of hot chocolate in my hand i somehow ended at the base of the statue of a.e. housman, professor and poet. I went click, click, click with my camera and when later i looked at the pictures, there i was, like a familiar etched inside the photograph of a view of housman's statue. a capital experience!
