Mervyn Peake (July 9,1911 - November 17,1968)
Simple, Seldom and Sad
Simple, seldom and sad
We are;
Alone on the Halibut Hills
Afar,
With sweet mad Expressions
Of old
Strangely beautiful
So we're told
By the Creatures that Move
In the sky
And Die
On the night when the Dead Trees
Prance and Cry.
Sensitive, seldom and sad -
Sensitive, seldom and sad -
Simple, seldom and sad
Are we
When we take our path
To the purple sea -
With mad, sweet Expressions
Of Yore,
Strangely beautiful,
Yea, and More
On the Night of all Nights
When the sky
Streams by
In rags, while the Dead Trees
Prance and Cry,
sensitive, seldom and sad -
sensitive, seldom and sad.
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How sensitive, seldom and sad your comments are, dear Mervyn! I wish you COULD keep writing.
Of whales and broken bottles,
Of quicksands cold and grey,
Of ullages and dottles,
You have no more to say.
Requiescat In Pace.
You are a good writer...keep writing...thank you.