The Friday Poem on 10/06/22
We chose ‘Studley Royal Water Gardens Temple of Fame’ by Sue Burge to be our Friday Poem this week because we were seduced by its rich and sensual language, and because we love the story — we can’t help cheering on those little pioneer bees as they slide under the dome, do their dance, celebrate their new home. The poem calls up the natural and the wild and sets them against the artificial and fake, and we know which side we are on.
Studley Royal Water Gardens Temple of Fame
When they peeled the dome
from the damaged temple
it was full of honey, oozing
down the columns like sweet candlewax
the workmen’s hands slathered
as if they were desperate bears
just out of hibernation;
legacy of the monastic bees
who’d swarmed in trees
since the dissolution.
Imagine them one day
sliding under the dome
not caring about the fakery
of painted marble, hollow columns
the notion of fame;
doing a crazy little charleston
for their fellow bees:
Come, come, we have found a city.
