Friday Poetry: Charles Wade

Happy Friday!

I hope everyone has had a good week so far. My chosen poem this week is by the English architect, artist-craftsman and poet Charles Wade (1883-1956). Wade is best known for assembling the large collection of items at Snowshill Manor.

In an old House Vistas abound

‘In an old House Vistas abound
In Modern House rarely are found,
Glimpses seen through an open door
The gleam of Sun on ancient floor.
From shade to light, from light to shade
All such sense of enchantment made,
The unexpected, the unknown
Never is all displayed and shown.
There lies a fascinating way
Down which one can but long to stray.
No longer Rooms to next one go
No longer can such Vistas show.
Now Corridors to Boxes lead,
Called Rooms, in this drab Age of speed.
Each Box alike, but little change
In rows like Penal Cells, they range.
The Stairway but to reach next height
Not one of Fantasy, delight,
Or may be Flat, no stair at all
So flattest dullness overall.
No mysteries above, below,
All that exists is there on show,
There are but few who heed their loss,
‘Tis MODERN – so the best of course!’

Charles Wade

Happy Reading