WILD STRAWBERRIES - Robert Graves Poems


Poems » robert graves » wild strawberries

Strawberries that in gardens grow
  Are plump and juicy fine,
But sweeter far as wise men know
  Spring from the woodland vine.

No need for bowl or silver spoon,
  Sugar or spice or cream,
Has the wild berry plucked in June
  Beside the trickling stream.

One such to melt at the tongue's root,
  Confounding taste with scent,
Beats a full peck of garden fruit:
  Which points my argument.

May sudden justice overtake
  And snap the froward pen,
That old and palsied poets shake
  Against the minds of men.

Blasphemers trusting to hold caught
  In far-flung webs of ink,
The utmost ends of human thought
  Till nothing's left to think.

But may the gift of heavenly peace
  And glory for all time
Keep the boy Tom who tending geese
  First made the nursery rhyme.