22.xi.22
1051
3.325
on St Cecilia’s Day
divertimenti for Britten
for concert pieces
arise ye, more than dead
– Dryden
like a black swan
I, in a mystery fold often
heart to the Lord, some say
with reverent cadence
for immortal fire
think of Orpheus
here’s Aphrodite roused
by such charm
follow a string line
nursery chord comes
and teddy roll round with
Trastevere
the parent thunder then
skies come clear
which way will we then?
a virgin martyrdom
birds high
yet to name
so many tuneless about
but here’s heart brims
go whimsy, lost – a leit
and round again
now middle height
so full – all in
all love this is
must be
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