poetry friday

What sees our mailie in the lily-pool,
What sees she with that large surprise?
What sees our mailie in the lily-pool
With all the violet of her big eyes —
Our mailie in the lily-pool?

She sees herself within the lily-pool,
Herself in flakes of brown and white —
Herself beneath the slab that is the lily-pool,
The green and liquid slab of light
With cups of silver dight,
Stem-rooted in the depths of amber night
That holds the hollows of the lily-pool —
Our own dear lily-pool!

She knows that it is nice — our lily-pool:
She like the water-rings around her knees;
She likes the shadow of the trees,
That droop above the lily-pool;
She likes to scatter with a silly sneeze
The long-legged flies that skim the lily-pool —
The peaceful-sleeping, baby lily-pool.

from The Lily Pool, by T.E. Brown
illustration by Eve Garnett, in A Book of the Seasons: An Anthology