To All Who Suffer Poem by Leaking Pen

205 To All Who Suffer

‘What will survive of us is love."
My Arundel tomb undiscovered
Where Larkin's spirit hovered
Over my of my fool's gold
No make belief hand is holding mine
Or effigy, as my past is told

To walk in Larkin's shoes…
I dread a dead-end, my reality
I'm am lost to ABBCAC modality
A chameleon, a pretence plasterer
Wish I could master Larkin's caster craft
My rhyme is more like a throwaway manufacturer.

My hand yearns for any touch
From a sculptor's hand to mend my broken heart,
To sleep day and night at the base of art
Where bright light and dark could meet
I wish I were the absurd little dogs
Laying happily under the lover's feet.

Larkin's seven stanzas immortalize
His one line and captures a century's wealth
Short on depth my knowledge is beneath his stealth
Breath of melancholy unlike my master's carpentry
I'll kneel humbly three temples away
His poetic soul worshiped in all eternity

January 7,2013
Copyright Leaking Pen 2012 -
An Arundel Tomb By Philip Larkin