Praises

 

I praise those things I always take for granted:-

The tap my sister turns on for my bath

Every time I stay, the safety pin –

And who invented it? I do not know –

The comb, the piece of soap, a shoe, its shine,

The name tape and the string, a leather purse –

How they all flock as I recall them now,

And Now I also praise with all its holds

Of nudges, hand-shakes, playing trains with children.

There is no end until I’m tired and think

Of craftsmen everywhere … O I forgot,

Cushions, napkins, stoves and cubes of ice.

All the world is praise or else is war.

Tonight the moon is almost half in shape,

‘Tomorrow will be hot’ say weathermen.

I praise the yawning kind of sleep that’s coming,

And where the spirit goes, the sheet, the pillow …

 

Elizabeth Jennings