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Beatrix is Three -- Adrian Mitchell

(Poem #810) Beatrix is Three
 At the top of the stairs
 I as for her hand. O.K.
 She gives it to me.
 How her fist fits my palm,
 A bunch of consolation.
 We take our time
 Down the steep carpetway
 As I wish silently
 That the stairs were endless.
-- Adrian Mitchell
Another poem which stands or falls by the strength of its final line... the
fact that I'm running it suggests that the former case holds <g>.  Indeed, I
think it's quite a successful (if slight) venture - one of those all too
rare poems which capture the essence of a moment, of an emotion, so exactly
that it makes you think you know precisely what the author felt at the time
of composition. Very nice.


[Minstrels Links]

Adrian Mitchell poems:
Poem #28, "To Whom It May Concern"
Poem #95, "Nostalgia - Now Threepence Off"
Poem #211, "The Oxford Hysteria of English Poetry"
Poem #337, "Jimmy Giuffre Plays 'The Easy Way'"
Poem #397, "Ancestors"
Poem #623, "Ten Ways to Avoid Lending Your Wheelbarrow to Anybody"

8 comments: ( or Leave a comment )

Wim Kruizinga said...

It's a good poem

Adrian Roberts said...

It captures perfectly those little moments when you have small children. They last a few seconds, yet the memory and the emotion lasts a lifetime.


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