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Soap Suds

Rating: 3.0

This brand of soap has the same smell as once in the big
House he visited when he was eight: the walls of the bathroom open
To reveal a lawn where a great yellow ball rolls back through a hoop
To rest at the head of a mallet held in the hands of a child.

And these were the joys of that house: a tower with a telescope;
Two great faded globes, one of the earth, one of the stars;
A stuffed black dog in the hall; a walled garden with bees;
A rabbit warren; a rockery; a vine under glass; the sea.

To which he has now returned. The day of course is fine
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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
M Asim Nehal 01 February 2016

Through hoops where no hoops were and each dissolves in turn And the grass has grown head-high and an angry voice cries Play!

1 0 Reply
George J. Carroll 02 September 2006

Louis MacNeice looks back at his childhood and plays it into adulthood which no longer plays this game.

4 8 Reply