My Room Is Become My Hermitage Poem by james watkin
My Room Is Become My Hermitage
My room is become my hermitage.
My poem, my daily prayer.
Which cherubim frequenting, flutter
As bees say "garden-fair".*
That's the quickening 'Holy Ghost'
In the quivering bush.
They're the tongues, for verifying
The biding sparrow push.
* butterflies
Thursday, October 3, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: home,past,poet
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1/28/2026 1:40:27 PM # 1.0.0
