The Seed-Shop Poem by Muriel Stuart
The Seed-Shop
Here in a quiet and dusty room they lie,
Faded as crumbled stone or shifting sand,
Forlorn as ashes, shrivelled, scentless, dry -
Meadows and gardens running through my hand.
In this brown husk a dale of hawthorn dreams;
A cedar in this narrow cell is thrust
That will drink deeply of a century's streams;
These lilies shall make summer on my dust.
Here in their safe and simple house of death,
Sealed in their shells, a million roses leap;
Here I can blow a garden with my breath,
And in my hand a forest lies asleep.
Mr. Straw, resorting to insults only serves to embarrass you more than your ill-conceived concept of poetry. You're on the verge of becoming a philistine, unless...
Last but not the least: Congrats on being once again chosen as the Modern Poem Of The Day!
Once again my response: The seeds symbolize hidden possibilities, much like the forest that 'lies asleep' within them. Stuart's words remind us that beneath the dust and mundane appearances,
I repeat mysewlf from previous response: The poem serves as a meditation on time, emphasizing that even in unassuming objects, the potential for life lies dormant, waiting to burst forth.
she portrays seemingly lifeless seeds in a shop, which, upon closer examination, hold within them the promise of growth and beauty
ONE: The poetess explores the theme of potential and transformation. Through vivid imagery, she portrays seemingly lifeless seeds in a shop, which, upon closer examination, hold within them the promise of growth and beauty.
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10/3/2024 7:34:22 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Such a lovely poem, singing beautifully with imagery!