Read more poems by Robert Service: Robert Service Poems at Poetry X.
If on isle of the sea I have to tarry, With one book, let it be A Dictionary. For though I love life's scene, It seems absurd, My greatest joy has been The printed word. Though painter with delight May colours blend, They are but in his sight Means to an end. Yet while I harmonise Or pattern them, A precious word I prize Like to a gem. A fiddler lures fine tone From gut and wood; A sculptor from stark stone Shapes godlihood. But let me just caress, Like silver birds, For their own loveliness-- Bewitching words.
Added: 29 Jun 2002 | Last Read: 25 Apr 2018 9:59 PM | Viewed: 4509 times
A PoetryNotes™ eBook is available for this poem for delivery within 24 hours, and usually available within minutes during normal business hours.
ON SALE - only $29.95 19.95!
For more information...