In a Bath Teashop -- John Betjeman

(Poem #1810) In a Bath Teashop "Let us not speak, for the love we bear one another -- Let us hold hands and look." She, such a very ordinary little woman; He, such a thumping crook; But both, for a moment, little lower than the angels In the teashop's ingle-nook. -- John Betjeman

I must admit, when I first read this poem (several years ago), it did not
strike me as being particularly noteworthy. Pleasant enough, perhaps,
enjoyable and well-crafted as Betjeman always is, but more reminiscent of a
poem dashed off in an idle moment than anything really great.

And yet - there are some poems that my mind packs away, holding them in
readiness for the right trigger, when it will produce them with a flourish,
mostly for the sheer pleasure of finding an apt quotation, but as a welcome
side effect, giving me the chance to examine the poem in a new light.

"In a Bath Teashop" is one of those poems that I've found myself mentally
quoting on several occasions, but it was only yesterday, when a friend said
something that brought it to mind again, that I realised why my subconscious
at least had found it so memorable - it sums up a universal truth with
surprising simplicity and elegance, so much so, in fact, that its beauty is
entirely unobtrusive. Many of Betjeman's poems have a salient, sparkling
brilliance that impresses me anew each time I read them, and is, indeed, the
main reason I enjoy his poetry so much; today's poem, with its quiet
perfection, may not have struck me as forcibly, but over time I have come to
believe that it is one of his finest.

martin