In Praise of Silver. by Pat Greetham
In Praise of Silver by Pat Greetham
A few mornings ago I found myself quietly reciting one of my favourite poems, Silver by Walter de la Mare.
It reminded me of the many happy years I spent teaching at Llanrumney High School in Cardiff.
One afternoon I read Silver to my class of third year pupils. At the end I asked the class what they thought of the poem. A boy’s hand shot up.
“I loved that poem Miss. I loved it ‘cos I’ve got a dog. And she’s called Silver”.
I wonder if she had paws of silver too?
Walter de la Mare
Slowly, silently, now the moon
Walks the night in her silver shoon;
This way, and that, she peers, and sees
Silver fruit upon silver trees;
One by one the casements catch
Her beams beneath the silvery thatch;
Couched in his kennel, like a log,
With paws of silver sleeps the dog;
From their shadowy cote the white breasts peep
Of doves in a silver-feathered sleep;
A harvest mouse goes scampering by,
With silver claws, and silver eye;
And moveless fish in the water gleam,
By silver reeds in a silver stream.