Few Joys

A poet is passionately in love with language. W.H.Auden

Few joys compare
to meeting words that match,
whisper, the grey-ragged milk
of layered mist
on winter-pined crags

Words, like giddy-green back flips
from silver-sharp skates,
deceptive in effortless loop
on blue-crystal ice

Words that burn in the Reader
like Psyche’s lamp high –
hanging the consequence –
daring the wrath of gods
to glimpse Eros,
languid in sleep

~ Marian Robson

Maria Robson is a Montreal teacher, freelance writer and translator who loves to travel and research, first hand, the nomadic life. She is currently working at Sultan Qaboos University in Oman.

Read more of Maria Robson’s poetry:
Potter’s Hands
That Which Must Go
Cynical Vows
The Nameless Tune

Leave a Reply