Friday Poetry: W. H. Davies

Happy Good Friday everyone, I hope you all have some yummy hot cross buns.

I will be honest it is only my blog that is keeping me on track of what day it is.

The poem I have chosen is all about the arrival of the cuckoos which usually happens mid April.


The Woods and Banks

The woods and banks of England now,

Late coppered with dead leaves and old,

Have made the early violets grow,

And bulge with knots of primrose gold.

Hear how the blackbird flutes away,

Whose music scorns to sleep at night:

Hear how the cuckoo shouts all day 

For echoes – to the world’s delight:

Hullo, you imp of wonder, you –

Where are you now, cuckoo? Cuckoo?


W. H. Davies


Happy reading.

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Friday Poetry

Well it is Good Friday, so I wanted a suitable poem to reflect this. I always think Christina Rossetti has excellent poems for the church festivals and yet again I have found a poem by her which is in my opinion perfect.

I hope you all have an excellent Easter weekend, but please remember it is not just about fluffy bunnies, cute chicks and chocolate eggs.


Good Friday

Am I a stone, and not a sheep,
That I can stand, O Christ, beneath Thy cross,
To number drop by drop Thy blood’s slow loss,
And yet not weep?

Not so those women loved
Who with exceeding grief lamented Thee;
Not so fallen Peter weeping bitterly;
Not so the thief was moved;

Not so the Sun and Moon
Which hid their faces in a starless sky,
A horror of great darkness at broad noon –
I, only I.

Yet give not o’er,
But seek Thy sheep, true Shepherd of the flock;
Greater than Moses, turn and look once more
And smite a rock.

Christina Rossetti


Lady Book Dragon.